OF.  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  AUGELES 


\ 


Fast  pressed  against  a  man's  heart,  a  faint  warmth  went  through  her. 
Drawn  by  D.  C.  Hutchison.  (See  page  178.) 


Greatheart 


By 

Ethel  M.  Dell 

Author  of  "  The  Way  of  an  Eagle,"  "  The  Hundredth  Chance,"  etc. 


Now  Mr.  Greatheart  was  a  strong  man." — The  Pilgrim's  Progress 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  and  London 

Cbe    fmtcfterbocfter    press 

1918 


COPYRIGHT,  1918 

BY 

ETHEL  M.  DELL 


ITbe  fmfcfcerboclter  press.  Hew  |?orft 


I  DEDICATE  THIS  BOOK 

TO 

A.  G.  C. 

FRIEND  OF  MY  HEART 

AND  TO  THE   MEMORY 

OF  ALL   THE  HAPPY  DAYS 

WE    HAVE    SPENT    TOGETHER 


2129396 


"That  man  is  great,  and  he  alone, 
Who  serves  a  greatness  not  his  own, 

For  neither  praise  nor  pelf  ; 
Content  to  know  and  be  unknown : 
Whole  in  himself." 

Robert,  First  Earl  of  Lytton. 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. — THE  WANDERER  .         .         .         .  i 

II. — THE  LOOKER-ON           ....  8 

III. — THE  SEARCH 17 

IV. — THE  MAGICIAN 24 

V. — APOLLO 33 

VI. — CINDERELLA         .....  40 

VII. — THE  BROKEN  SPELL     ....  50 

VIII. — MR.  GREATHEART         ....  57 

IX. — THE  RUNAWAY  COLT.           ...  74 

X. — THE  HOUSE  OF  BONDAGE     ...  80 

XI. — OLYMPUS 87 

XII. — THE  WINE  OF  THE  GODS      ...  95 

XIII. — FRIENDSHIP  IN  THE  DESERT          .         .  102 

XIV.— THE  PURPLE  EMPRESS          .         .         .  in 

XV.— THE  MOUNTAIN  CREST         .         .         .118 

XVI.— THE  SECOND  DRAUGHT         .         .         .127 


viii  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVII. — THE  UNKNOWN  FORCE  .  .  .  135 

XVIII. — THE  ESCAPE  OF  THE  PRISONER  .  .  148 

XIX. — THE  CUP  OF  BITTERNESS  •.  .  .  158 

XX. — THE  VISION  OF  GREATHEART  .  .168 

XXI.— THE  RETURN       -l/^       -  •  .176 

XXII. — THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  .  .184 

XXIII.— THE  WAY  BACK  .  .  .  190 

XXIV. — THE  LIGHTS  OF  A  CITY  .  ,  .  .  198 

XXV.— THE  TRUE  GOLD  .  .  .  .  .207 

XXVI. — THE  CALL  OF  APOLLO  .  .  .  216 

XXVII. — THE  GOLDEN  MAZE     .         .  .  .     226 

.,** 

XXVIII.— THE  LESSON      /-.         .         .  .  .233 

XXIX.— THE  CAPTIVE                .         .  .  .     240 

XXX. — THE  SECOND  SUMMONS          . .  .  .     250 

PART  II 

I. — CINDERELLA'S  PRINCE           .  .  .     261 

II. — WEDDING  ARRANGEMENTS     .  .  .     275 

III. — DESPAIR     ,.,.,„.      .  .  .     286 

IV. — THE  NEW  HOME       r  ,         .      .  ,,.  .     292 

V. — THE  WATCHER     .      f/c^ . ..,.  .  .     298 

VI.— THE  WR^NG  ROAD       .         .  .  .305 

VII. — DOUBTING  CASTLE       .         .  .  .     314 


Contents  ix 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

VIII. — THE  VICTORY      .....     324 

IX. — THE  BURDEN       .....     330 

X. — THE  HOURS  OF  DARKNB^S  .         .         .     338 

XI.— THE  NET 344 

XII. — THE  DIVINE  SPARK  .         .         .351 

XIII. — THE  BROKEN  HEART   .  ^^     .         .    356 

XIV. — THE  WRATH  OF  THE  GODS  .         .         .     366 

XV. — THE  SAPPHIRE  FOR  FRIENDSHIP    .         .     374 

XVI. — THE  OPEN  DOOR          ....     379 

XVII.— THE  LION  IN  THE  PATH  ^ .         .         .    386 

XVIII.— THE  TRUTH 396 

XIX. — THE  FURNACE   \j  407 

XX. — THE  COMING  OF  GREATHEART       .         .     419 

XXI. — THE  VALLEY  OF  HUMILIATION      .         .     430 

XXII. — SPOKEN  IN  JEST  .....     440 

XXIII. — THE  KNIGHT  IN  DISGUISE    .         .         .     449 

XXIV. — THE  MOUNTAIN  SIDE  ....     455 

XXV.— THE  TRUSTY  FRIEND   .         .         .         .463 

XXVI. — THE  LAST  SUMMONS     ....     470 

XXVII.— THE  MOUNTAIN-TOP    .         .         .         .482 

XXVIII. — CONSOLATION       .         .         .         .         .491 

XXIX. — THE  SEVENTH  HEAVEN    \/.         .         .    499 


GREATHEART 


PART  I 

CHAPTER  I 

THE  WANDERER 

BIDDY  MALONE Y  stood  at  the  window  of  her  mistress's 
bedroom,  and  surveyed  the  world  with  eyes  of  stern 
disapproval.  There  was  nothing  of  the  smart  lady's  maid 
about  Biddy.  She  abominated  smart  lady's  maids.  A 
flyaway  French  cap  and  an  apron  barely  reaching  to  the 
knees  were  to  her  the  very  essence  of  flighty  impropriety. 
There  was  just  such  a  creature  in  attendance  upon  Lady 
Grace  de  Vigne  who  occupied  the  best  suite  of  rooms  in  the 
hotel,  and  Biddy  very  strongly  resented  her  existence.  In 
her  own  mind  she  despised  her  as  a  shameless  hussy  wholly 
devoid  of  all  ideas  of  "dacency. "  Her  resentment  was 
partly  due  to  the  fact  that  the  indecent  one  belonged  to  the 
party  in  possession  of  the  best  suite,  which  they  had 
occupied  some  three  weeks  before  Biddy  and  her  party 
had  app*Jfcred  on  the  scene. 

It  was  all  Master  Scott's  fault,  of  course.  He  ought  to 
have  written  to  engage  rooms  sooner,  but  then  to  be  sure 
the  decision  to  migrate  to  this  winter  paradise  in  the  Alps 

i 


2  Greatheart 

had  been  a  sudd&n  one.  That  had  been  Sir  Eustace's 
fault.  He  was  always  so  sudden  in  his  ways. 

Biddy  sighed  impatiently.  Sir  Eustace  had  always  been 
hard  to  manage.  She  had  never  really  conquered  him  even 
in  the  days  when  she  had  made  him  stand  in  the  corner 
and  go  without  sugar  in  his  tea.  She  well  remembered 
the  shocking  occasion  on  which  he  had  flung  sugar  and 
basin  together  into  the  fire  so  that  the  others  might  be 
made  to  share  his  enforced  abstinence.  She  believed  he 
was  equal  to  committing  a  similar  act  of  violence  if  baulked 
even  now.  But  he  never  was  baulked.  At  thirty-five  he 
reigned  supreme  in  his  own  world.  No  one  ever  crossed 
him,  unless  it  were  Master  Scott,  and  of  course  no  one  could 
be  seriously  angry  with  him,  poor  dear  young  man!  He 
was  so  gentle  and  kind.  A  faint,  maternal  smile  relaxed 
Biddy's  grim  lips.  She  became  aware  that  the  white  world 
below  was  a-flood  with  sunshine. 

The  snowy  moumains  that  rose  against  the  vivid  blue 
were  dream-like  in  their  beauty.  Where  the  sun  shone 
upon  them,  their  purity  was  almost  too  dazzling  to  behold. 
It  was  a  relief  to  rest  the  eyes  upon  the  great  patches  of 
pine-woods  that  clothed  some  of  the  slopes. 

"I  wonder  if  Miss  Isabel  will  be  happy  here,"  mused 
Biddy. 

That  to  her  mind  was  the  only  thing  on  earth  that 
really  mattered,  practically  the  only  thing  for  which  she 
ever  troubled  her  Maker.  Her  own  wants  were  all  amal- 
gamated in  this  one  great  desire  of  her  heart — that  her 
darling's  poor  torn  spirit  should  be  made  happy.  She  had 
wholly  ceased  to  rem^ber  that  she  had  ever  wanted  any- 
thing else.  It  was  for  Miss  Isabel  that  she  desired  the 
best  rooms,  the  best  carriages,  the  best  of  everything. 
Even  her  love  for  Master  Scott — poor  dear  young  man! — 
depended  largely  upon  the  faculty  he  possessed  for  consoling 
and  interesting  Miss  Isabel.  Anyone  who  did  that  earned 


The  Wanderer  3 

Biddy's  undying  respect  and  gratitude.  Of  the  rest  of 
the  world — save  for  a  passing  disapproval — she  was  scarcely 
aware.  Nothing  else  mattered  in  the  same  way.  In  fact 
no/hing  else  really  mattered  at  all. 

Ah!  A  movement  from  the  bed  at  last!  Her  quick 
ears,  ever  on  the  alert,  warned  her  on  the  instant.  She 
turned  from  the  window  with  such  mother-love  shining  in 
her  old  brown  face  under  its  severe  white  cap  as  made  it  as 
beautiful  in  its  way  as  the  paradise  without. 

"Why,  Miss  Isabel  darlint,  how  you've  slept  then!"  she 
said,  in  the  soft,  crooning  voice  which  was  kept  for  this  one 
beloved  being  alone. 

Two  white  arms  were  stretched  wide  outside  the  bed. 
Two  dark  eyes,  mysteriously  shadowed  and  sunken,  looked 
up  to  hers. 

"Has  he  gone  already,  Biddy? "  a  low  voice  asked. 

"Only  a  little  way,  darlint.  He's  just  round  the  cor- 
ner, "  said  Biddy  tenderly.  "Will  ye  wait  a  minute  while  I 
give  ye  your  tay  ? " 

There  was  a  spirit-kettle  singing  merrily  in  the  room. 
She  busied  herself  about  it,  her  withered  face  intent  over 
the  task. 

The  white  arms  fell  upon  the  blue  travelling-rug  that 
Biddy  had  spread  with  loving  care  outside  the  bed  the 
night  before  to  add  to  her  mistress's  comfort.  "When  did 
he  go,  Biddy?"  the  low  voice  asked,  and  there  was  a  furtive 
quality  in  the  question  as  if  it  were  designed  for  none  but 
Biddy's  ears.  "Did  he — did  he  leave  no  message?" 

'\Ah,  to  be  sure!"  said  Biddy,  turning  her  face  for  a 
moment.  "And  the  likes  of  me  to  have  forgotten  it! 
He  sent  ye  his  best  love,  darlint,  and  ye  were  to  eat  a  fine 
breakfast  before  ye  went  out. " 

The  sad  eyes  smiled  at  her  from  the  bed,  half-gratified, 
half-incredulous,  like  the  eyes  of  a  lonely  child  who  listens 
to  a  fairy-tale.  "It  was  like  him  to  think  of  that,  Biddy. 


4  Greatheart 

But — I  wish  he  had  stayed  a  little  longer.     I  must  get  up 
and  go  and  find  him. " 

"Hasn't  he  been  with  ye  through  the  night?"  asked 
Biddy,  bent  again  to  her  task.  . 

"  Nearly  all  "night  long ! "  The  answer  came  on  a  note  of 
triumph^  yet  there  was  also  a  note  of  challenge  in  it  also. 

"Then  what  more  would  ye  have?"  said  Biddy  wisely. 
"Leave  him  alone  for  a  bit,  darlint!  Husbands  are  better 
without  their  wives  sometimes." 

A  low  laugh  came  from  the  bed.  "Oh,  Biddy,  I  must  tell 
him  that!  He  would  love  your  bon-mots.  Did  he — did  he 
say  when  he  would  be  back?" 

"That  he  did  not,"  said  Biddy,  still  absorbed  over  the 
kettle.  "But  there's  nothing  in  that  at  all.  Ye  can't  be 
always  expecting  a  man  to  give  account  of  himself.  Now, 
mavourneen,  I'll  give  ye  your  tay,  and  ye'll  be  able  to  get  up 
when  ye  feel  like  it.  Ah!  There's  Master  Scott!  And 
would  ye  like  him  to  come  in  and  have  a  cup  with  ye?" 
'  Three  soft  knocks  had  sounded  on  the  door.  The  woman 
in  the  bed  raised  herself,  and  her  hair  fell  in  glory  around 
her,  hair  that  at  twenty^ye  had  been  raven-black,  hair  that 
at  thirty-two  was  white  as  the  snow  outside  the  window. 

"  Is  that  you,  Stumpy  dear?  Come  in !  Come  in ! "  she 
called. 

Her  voice  was  hollow  and  deep.  She  turned  her  face  to 
the  door — a  beautiful,  wasted  face  with  hungry  eyes  that 
watched  and  waited  perpetually. 

The  door  opened  very  quietly  and  unobtrusively,  and  a 
small,  insignificant  man  came  in.  He  was  about  the  size 
of  the  average  schoolboy  of  fifteen,  and  he  walked  with  a 
slight  limp,  one  leg  being  a  trifle  shorter  than  the  other. 
Notwithstanding  this  defect,  his  general  appearance  was 
one  of  extreme  neatness,  from  his  colourless  but  carefully 
trained  moustache  and  small  trim  beard  to  his  well-shod 
feet.  His  clothes — like  his  beard — fitted  him  perfectly. 


The  Wanderer  5 

His  close-cropped  hair  was  also  colourless  and  grew 
somewhat  far  back  on  his  forehead.  His  pale  grey  eyes 
had  a  tired  expression,  as  if  they  had  looked  too  long  or  too 
earnestly  upon  the  turmoil  of  life. 

He  came  to  the  bedside  and  took  the  thin  white  hand 
outstretched  to  him  on  which  a  wedding  ring  hung  loose. 
He  walked  without  awkwardness;  there  was  even  dignity 
in  his  carriage. 

He  bent  to  kiss  the  uplifted  face.  "Have  you  slept 
well,  dear?" 

Her  arms  reached  up  and  clasped  his  neck.  "Oh, 
Stumpy,  yes!  I  have  had  a  lovely  night.  Basil  has  been 
with  me.  He  has  gone  out  now ;  but  I  am  going  to  look  for 
him  presently." 

"Many  happyV returns  of  the  day  to  ye,  Master  Scott!" 
put  in  Biddy  ratljfer  pointedly. 

"Ah  yes.  It  is  your  birthday.  I  had  forgotten.  For- 
give me,  Stumpy  darling !  You  know  I  wish  you  always  the 
very,  very  best. "  The  clinging  arms  held  him  more  closely. 

"Thank  you,  Isabel."  Scott's  voice  was  as  tired  as  his 
eyes,  and  yet  it  had  a  certain  quality  of  strength.  "Of 
course  it's  a  very  important  occasion.  How  are  we  going 
to  celebrate  it?" 

"I  have  a  preQgnt  for  you  somewhere.  Biddy,  where  is 
it  ? "  Isabel's  voice  had  a  note  of  impatience  in  it. 

"It's  here,  darlint!  It's  here!"  Biddy  bustled  up  to 
the  bed  with  a  parcel. 

Isabel  took  it  from  her  and  turned  to  Scott.  "  It's  only  a 
silly  old  cigarette-case,  dear,  but  I  thought  of  it  all  myself. 
How  old  are  you  now,  Stumpy  ? " 

" I  am  thirty, "  he  answered,  smiling.  "Thank  you  very 
much,  dear.  It's  just  the  thing  I  wanted — only  too  good ! " 

"As  if  anything  could  be  too  good  for  you!"  his  sister 
said  tenderly.  "Has  Eustace  remembered ? " 

"Oh  yes.     Eustace  has  given  me  a  saddle,  but  as  he 


6  Greatheart 

didn't  think  I  should  want  it  here,  it  is  to  be  presented 
when  we  get  home  again. "  He  sat  down  on  the  side  of  the 
bed,  still  inspecting  the  birti^day  offering. 

"Haven't  you  had  anything  from  anyone  else?"  Isabel 
asked,  after  a  moment. 

He  shook  his  head.  ' '  Who  else  is  there  to  bother  about 
a  minnow  like  me?" 

"You're  not  a  minnow,  Scott.  And  didn't — didn't  Basil 
give  you  anything?" 

Scott's  tired  eyes  looked  at  her  with  a  sudden  fixity. 
He  said  nothing;  but  a  piteous  look  came  into  Isabel's  face 
under  his  steady  gaze,  and  she  dropped  her  own  as  if 
ashamed.  /'  '  JLj 

"Wmsnt,'  Master  Scott  darlint,  for  the  Lord's  sake, 
don't  ye  go  upsetting  her!"  warned  Biddy  in  a  sibilant 
whisper.  "I  had  trouble  enough  last  night.  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  the  draught,  she  wouldn't  have  slept  at  all,  at 
all." 

Scott  did  not  look  at  her.  "You  should  have  called  me, " 
he  said,  and  leaning  forward  took  his  sister's  hand.  "Isabel, 
wouldn't  you  like  to  come  out  and  see  the  skaters?  There 
is  some  wonderful  luging  going  on  too." 

She  did  not  raise  her  eyes;  her  whole  demeanour  had 
changed.  She  seemed  to  droop  as  if  all  animation  had 
gone.  "I  don't  know,"  she  said  listlessly.  "I  think  I 
would  almost  as  soon  stay  here. " 

"Have  your  tay,  darlint!"  coaxed  Biddy,  on  her  other 
side. 

"Eustace  will  be  coming  to  look  for  you  if  you  don't," 
said  Scott. 

She  started  at  that,  and  gave  a  quick  shiver.  "Oh  no, 
I  don't  want  Eustace!  Don't  let  him  come  here,  Stumpy, 
will  you?" 

"Shall  I  go  and  tell  him  you  are  coming  then?"  asked 
Scott,  his  eyes  still  steadily  watching  her. 


The  Wanderer  7 

She  nodded.  "Yes,  yes.  But  I  don't  want  to  be  made. 
Basil  never  made  me  do  things. " 

Scott  rose.  "I  will  wait  for  you  downstairs.  Thank 
you,  Biddy.  Yes,  I'll  drink  that  first.  No  tea  in  the 
world  ever  tastes  like  your  brew. " 

"Get  along  with  your  blarney,  Master  Scott!"  protested 
Biddy.  "And  you  and  Sir  Eustace  mustn't  tire  Miss 
Isabel  out.  Remember,  she's  just  come  a  long  journey, 
and  it's  not  wonderful  at  all  that  she  don't  feel  like  exerting 
herself." 

A  red  fire  of  resentment  smouldered  in  the  old  woman's 
eyes,  but  Scott  paid  no  attention  to  it.  "You'd  better  get 
some  sleep  yourself,  Biddy,  if  you  can,"  he  said.  "No 
more,  thanks.  You  will  be  out  in  an  hour  then,  Isabel?" 

"Perhaps,"  she  said. 

He  paused,  standing  beside  her.  "If  you  are  not  out 
in  an  hour  I  shall  come  and  fetch  you,  "  he  said. 

She  put  forth  an  appealing  hand  like  a  child.  "I  will 
come  out,  Stumpy.  I  will  come  out,  "  she  said  tremulously. 

He  pressed  the  hand  for  a  moment.  "In  an  hour  then, 
I  want  to  show  you  everything.  There  is  plenty  to  be 
seen." 

He  turned  to  the  door,  looked  back  with  a  parting  smile, 
and  went  out. 

Isabel  did  not  see  the  smile.  She  was  staring  moodily 
downwards  with  eyes  that  only  looked  within. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    LOOKER-ON 

DOWN  on  the  skating-rink  below  the  hotel,  a  crowd  of 
people  were  making  merry.  The  ice  was  in  splendid 
condition.  It  sparkled  in  the  sun  like  a  sheet  of  frosted 
glass,  and  over  it  the  skaters  glided  with  much  mirth  and 
laughter. 

Scott  stood  on  the  road  above  and  watched  them.  There 
were  a  good  many  accomplished  performers  among  them, 
and  there  were  also  several  beginners.  But  all  seemed  alike 
infected  with  the  gaiety  of  the  place.  There  was  not  one 
face  that  did  not  wear  a  smile. 

It  was  an  invigorating  scene.  From  a  slope  of  the  white 
mountain-side  beyond  the  rink  the  shouts  and  laughter  of 
lugers  came  through  the  crystal  air.  A  string  of  luges  was 
shooting  down  the  run,  and  even  as  Scott  caught  sight  of  it 
the  foremost  came  to  grief,  and  a  dozen  people  rolled  igno- 
miniously  in  the  snow.  He  smiled  involuntarily.  He  seemed 
to  have  stepped  into  an  atmosphere  of  irresponsible  youth. 
The  air  was  full  of  the  magic  fluid.  It  stirred  his  pulses  like 
a  draught  of  champagne. 

Then  his  eyes  returned  to  the  rink,  and  almost  immedi- 
ately singled  out  the  best  skater  there.  A  man  in  a  white 
sweater,  dark,  handsome,  magnificently  made,  supremely 
sure  of  himself,  darted  with  the  swift  grace  of  a  swallow 
through  the  throng.  His  absolute  confidence  and  splendid 
physique  made  him  conspicuous.  He  executed  elaborate 


The  Looker-On  9 

figures  with  such  perfect  ease  and  certainty  of  move- 
ment that  many  turned  to  look  at  him  in  astonished 
admiration. 

"Great  Scott!"  said  a  cracked  voice  at  Scott's  shoulder. 

He  turned  sharply,  and  met  the  frank  regard  of  a  rosy- 
faced  schoolboy  a  little  shorter  than  himself. 

"Look  at  that  bloomin'  swell!"  said  the  new-comer  in 
tones  of  deep  disgust.  "He  seems  to  have  sprouted  in  the 
night.  I've  no  use  for  these  star  skaters  myself.  They're 
all  so  beastly  sidey. " 

He  addressed  Scott  as  an  equal,  and  as  an  equal  Scott 
made  reply.  "P'raps  when  you're  a  star  skater  yourself, 
you'll  change  your  mind  about  'em.  " 

The  boy  grinned.  "Ah!  P'raps!  You're  a  new  chum, 
aren't  you?" 

"Very  new,"  said  Scott. 

"Can  you  skate?"  asked  the  lad.  "But  of  course  you 
can.  I  suppose  you're  another  dark  horse.  It's  too  bad, 
you  know;  just  as  Dinah  and  I  are  beginning  to  fancy  our- 
selves at  it.  We  began  right  at  the  beginning  too. " 

"Consider  yourself  lucky!"  said  Scott  rather  briefly. 

"What  do  you  mean  ? "  The  boy's  eyes  flashed  over  him 
intelligently,  green  eyes  humorously  alert. 

Scott  glanced  downwards.  "I  mean  my  legs  are  not  a 
pair,  so  I  can't  even  begin." 

"Oh,  bad  luck,  sir!"  The  equality  vanished  from  the 
boy's  voice.  He  became  suddenly  almost  deferential,  and 
Scott  realized  that  he  was  no  longer  regarded  as  a  comrade. 
"Still" — he  hesitated — "you  can  luge,  I  suppose?" 

"I  don't  quite  see  myself,"  said  Scott,  looking  across 
once  more  to  the  merry  group  on  the  distant  run. 

"Any  idiot  can  do  that, "  the  boy  protested,  then  turned 
suddenly  a  deep  red.  "Oh,  lor,  I  didn't  mean  that!  Hi, 
Dinah!"  He  turned  to  cover  his  embarrassment  and  sent 
a  deafening  yell  at  the  sun-bathed  facade  of  the  hotel. 


io  Greatheart 

"Are  you  never  coming,  you  cuckoo?  Half  the  morning's 
gone  already!"  » 

"Coming,  Billy!"  at  once  a  clear  gay  voice  made 
answer,  and  the  merriest  face  that  Scott  had  ever  seen 
made  a  sudden  appearance  at  an  open  window.  "Darling 
Billy,  do  keep  your  hair  on  for  just  two  minutes  longer! 
Yvonne  has  been  trying  on  my  fancy  dress,  but  she's  nearly 
done." 

The  neck  and  shoulders  below  the  laughing  face  were 
bare  and  a  bare  arm  waved  in  a  propitiatory  fashion  ere  it 
vanished. 

"Looks  as  if  the  fancy  dress  is  a  minus  quantity," 
observed  Billy  to  his  companion  with  a  grin.  "I  didn't 
see  any  of  it,  did  you?" 

Scott  tried  not  to  laugh.     "Your  sister?"  he  asked. 

Billy  nodded  affirmation.  "She  ain't  a  bad  urchin," 
he  observed,  "as  sisters  go.  We're  staying  here  along 
with  the  de  Vignes.  Ever  met  'em  ?  Lady  Grace  is  a  holy 
terror.  Her  husband  is  a  horrible  stuck-up  bore  of  an 
Anglo-Indian, — thinks  himself  everybody,  and  tells  the 
most  awful  howlers.  Rose — that's  the  daughter — is  by 
way  of  being  very  beautiful.  There  she  goes  now;  see? 
That  golden-haired  girl  in  red!  She's  another  of  your 
beastly  star  skaters.  I'll  bet  she'll  have  that  big  bounder 
cutting  capers  with  her  before  the  day's  out. " 

"Think  so?"  said  Scott. 

Billy  nodded  again.  "I  suppose  he's  a  prince  at  least. 
My  word,  doesn't  he  fancy  himself?  Look  at  that  now? 
Side — sheer  side ! ' ' 

The  skater  under  discussion  had  just  executed  a  most 
intricate  figure  not  far  from  them.  Having  accomplished 
it  with  that  unerring  and  somewhat  blatant  confidence 
that  so  revolted  Billy's  schoolboy  soul,  he  straightened  his 
tall  figure,  and  darted  in  a  straight  line  for  the  end  of  the 
rink  above  which  they  stood.  His  hands  were  in  his 


The  Looker-On  n 

pockets .  His  bearing  was  superb .  He  described  a  complete 
circle  below  them  before  he  brought  himself  to  a  stand. 
Then  he  lifted  his  dark  arrogant  face.  He  wore  a  short 
clipped  moustache  which  by  no  means  hid  the  strength  of  a 
well-modelled  though  slightly  sneering  mouth.  His  eyes 
were  somewhat  deeply  set,  and  shone  extraordinarily  blue 
under  straight  black  brows  that  met.  The  man's  whole 
expression  was  one  of  dominant  self-assertion.  He  bore 
himself  like  a  king. 

"Well,  Stumpy,"  he  said,  "where's  Isabel?" 

Scott's  companion  jumped,  and  beat  a  swift  retreat. 
Scott  smiled  a  little  as  he  made  reply. 

"I  have  been  up  to  see  her.  She  will  be  out  presently. 
Biddy  had  to  give  her  a  sleeping-draught  last  night." 

"  Damn! "  said  the  other  in  a  fierce  undertone.  "  Did  she 
call  you  first?" 

"No." 

"Then  why  the  devil  didn't  she?  I  shall  sack  that 
woman.  Isabel  hasn't  a  chance  to  get  well  with  a  mischiev- 
ous old  hag  like  that  always  with  her." 

"I  think  Isabel  would  probably  die  without  her," 
Stumpy  responded  in  his  quiet  voice  which  presented  a 
vivid  contrast  to  his  brother's  stormy  utterance.  "And 
Biddy  would  probably  die  too — if  she  consented  to  go, 
which  I  doubt. " 

"Oh,  damn  Biddy!  The  sooner  she  dies  the  better. 
She's  nothing  but  a  perpetual  nuisance.  What  is  Isabel 
like  this  morning?" 

Scott  hesitated,  and  his  brother  frowned. 

' '  That's  enough.  What  else  could  any  one  expect  ?  Look 
here,  Scott!  This  thing  has  got  to  end.  I  shall  take  that 
sleeping-stuff  away. " 

"  If  you  can  get  hold  of  it, "  put  in  Scott  drily. 

"You  must  get  hold  of  it.  You  have  ample  opportunity. 
It's  all  very  well  to  preach  patience,  but  she  has  been  taking 


12  Greatheart 

slow  poison  for  seven  years.  I  am  certain  of  it.  It's  ridicu- 
lous! It's  monstrous!  It's  got  to  end. "  He  spoke  with 
impatient  finality,  his  blue  eyes  challenging  remonstrance. 

Scott  made  none.  Only  after  a  moment  he  said,  "  If  you 
take  away  one  prop,  old  chap,  you  must  provide  another. 
A  broken  thing  can't  stand  alone.  But  need  we  discuss  it 
now?  As  I  told  you,  she  is  coming  out  presently,  and  this 
glorious  air  is  bound  to  make  a  difference  to  her.  It  tastes 
like  wine." 

It  was  at  this  point  that  the  golden-haired  girl  in  red 
suddenly  glided  up  and  sat  down  on  the  bank  a  few  yards 
away  to  adjust  a  skate. 

Sir  Eustace  turned  his  head,  and  a  sparkle  came  into 
his  eyes.  He  watched  her  for  a  moment,  then  left  his 
brother  without  further  words. 

"Can  I  do  that  for  you?"  he  asked. 

She  lifted  a  flushed  face.  "Oh,  how  kind  of  you!  But  I 
have  just  managed  it.  How  lovely  the  ice  is  this  morning ! " 

She  rose  with  the  words,  balancing  herself  with  a  grace 
as  finished  as  his  own,  and  threw  him  a  dazzling  smile  of 
gratitude.  Scott,  from  his  post  of  observation  on  the  bank, 
decided  that  she  certainly  was  beautiful.  Her  face  was 
almost  faultless.  And  yet  it  seemed  to  him  that  there 
was  infinitely  more  of  witchery  in  the  face  that  had  laughed 
from  the  window  a  few  minutes  before.  Almost  uncon- 
sciously he  was  waiting  to  see  the  owner  of  that  face  emerge. 

He  watched  the  inevitable  exchange  of  commonplaces 
between  his  brother  and  the  beautiful  Miss  de  Vigne  whose 
graciousness  plainly  indicated  her  willingness  for  a  nearer 
acquaintance,  and  presently  he  saw  them  move  away  side 
by  side. 

"What  did  I  tell  you?"  said  Billy's  voice  at  his  shoulder. 
"But  you  might  have  said  that  chap  belonged  to  you.  How 
was  I  to  know?" 

"Oh,  quite  so, "  said  Scott.     " Pray  don't  apologize !     He 


The  Looker-On  13 

doesn't  belong  to  me  either.     It  is  I  who  belong  to  him." 

Billy's  green  eyes  twinkled  appreciatively.  "You're 
his  brother,  aren't  you?" 

Scott  looked  at  him.  "Now  how  on  earth  did  you  know 
that?" 

He  looked  back  with  his  frank,  engaging  grin.  "Oh, 
there's  the  same  hang  about  you.  I  can't  tell  you  what  it 
is.  Dinah  would  know  directly.  You'd  better  ask  her. "  ' 

"I  don't  happen  to  have  the  pleasure  of  your  sister's 
acquaintance,"  observed  Scott,  with  his  quiet  smile. 

"Oh,  I'll  soon  introduce  you  if  that's  what  you  want," 
said  Billy.  "Come  along!  There  she  is  now,  just  crossing 
the  road.  By  the  way,  I  don't  think  you  told  me  your 
name. " 

"My  name  is  Studley — Scott  Studley,  Stumpy  to  my 
friends,  "  said  Scott,  in  his  whimsical,  rather  weary  fashion. 

Billy  laughed.  "You're  a  sport,"  he  said.  "When  I 
know  you  a  bit  better,  I  shall  remember  that.  Hi,  Dinah ! 
What  a  deuce  of  a  time  you've  been.  This  is  Mr.  Studley, 
and  he  saw  you  at  the  window  without  anything  on." 

"I'm  sure  he  didn't!  Billy,  how  dare  you?"  Dinah's 
brown  face  burned  an  indignant  red;  she  looked  at  Scott 
with  instant  hostility. 

"Oh,  please!"  he  protested  mildly.  "That's  not  quite 
fair  on  me." 

"Serves  you  right,  "  declared  Billy  with  malicious  delight. 
"You  played  me  a  shabby  trick,  you  know." 

Dinah's  brow  cleared.  She  smiled  upon  Scott.  "Isn't 
he  a  horrid  little  pig?  How  do  you  do?  Isn't  it  a  ripping 
day?  It  makes  you  want  to  climb,  doesn't  it?  I  wish  I'd 
got  an  alpenstock. " 

"Can't  you  get  one  anywhere?"  asked  Scott.  "I 
thought  they  were  always  to  be  had." 

"Yes,  but  they  cost  money,"  sighed  Dinah.  "And  I 
haven't  got  any.  It  doesn't  really  matter  though.  There 


14  Greatheart 

are  lots  of  other  things  to  do.  Are  you  keen  on  luging?  I 
am." 

Her  bright  eyes  smiled  into  his  with  the  utmost  friendli- 
ness, and  he  knew  that  she  would  not  commit  Billy's  mis- 
take and  ask  him  if  he  skated. 

Her  smile  was  infectious.  The  charm  of  it  lingered  after 
it  had  passed.  Her  eyes  were  green  like  Billy's,  only 
softer.  They  had  a  great  deal  of  sweetness  in  them,  and  a 
spice — just  a  spice  of  devilry  as  well.  The  rest  of  the  face 
would  have  been  quite  unremarkable,  but  the  laughter- 
loving  mouth  and  pointed  chin  wholly  redeemed  it  from  the 
commonplace.  She  was  a  little  brown  thing  like  a  wood- 
land creature,  and  her  dainty  air  and  quick  ways  put  Scott 
irresistibly  in  mind  of  a  pert  robin. 

In  reply  to  her  question  he  told  her  that  he  had  arrived 
only  the  night  before.  "And  I  am  quite  a  tyro, "  he  added. 
"  I  have  been  watching  the  luging  on  that  slope,  and  thank- 
ing all  the  stars  that  control  my  destiny  that  I  wasn't 
there. " 

She  laughed,  showing  a  row  of  small  white  teeth.  "Oh, 
you'd  love  it  once  you  started.  It's  a  heavenly  sport  if  the 
run  isn't  bumpy.  Isn't  this  a  glorious  atmosphere?  It 
makes  one  feel  so  happy. " 

She  came  and  stood  by  his  side  to  watch  the  skaters. 
Billy  was  seated  on  the  bank,  impatiently  changing  his 
boots. 

"I'm  not  going  to  wait  for  you  any  longer,  Dinah,"  he 
said.  "I'm  fed  up." 

"Don't  then!"  she  retorted.     "I  never  asked  you  to." 

"What  a  lie!"  said  Billy,  with  all  a  brother's  gallantry. 

She  threw  him  a  sister's  look  of  scorn  and  deigned  no 
rejoinder.  But  in  a  moment  the  incident  was  forgotten. 
"Oh,  look  there ! "  she  suddenly  exclaimed.  "Isn't  that  just 
like  Rose  de  Vigne?  She's  always  sure  to  appropriate  the 
most  handsome  man  within  sight.  I've  been  watching  that 


The  Looker-On  15 

man  from  my  window.  He  is  a  perfect  Apollo,  and  skates 
divinely.  And  now  she's  got  him !" 

Deep  disgust  was  audible  in  her  voice.  Billy  looked 
up  with  a  sideways  grin.  "You  don't  suppose  he'd  look 
at  a  sparrow  like  you,  do  you?"  he  said.  "He  prefers 
a  swan,  you  bet." 

"Be  quiet,  Billy!"  commanded  Dinah,  making  an  in- 
effectual dig  at  him  with  her  foot.  "I  don't  want  him  to 
look  at  me.  I  hate  men.  But  it  is  too  bad  the  way  Rose 
always  chooses  the  best.  It's  just  the  same  with  every- 
thing. And  I  long — oh,  I  do  long  sometimes — to  cut  her 
out!" 

"I  should  myself, "  said  Scott  unexpectedly.  "But  why 
don't  you.  I'm  sure  you  could. " 

She  threw  him  a  whimsical  smile.  "  I ! "  she  said.  "Why 
that's  about  as  likely  as — "  she  stopped  short  in  some 
confusion. 

He  laughed  a  little.  "You  mean  I  might  as  soon  hope  to 
cut  out  Apollo  ?  But  the  cases  are  not  parallel,  I  assure  you. 
Besides,  Apollo  happens  to  be  my  brother,  which  makes  a 
difference." 

"Oh,  is  he  your  brother?  What  a  good  thing  you  told 
me!"  laughed  Dinah.  "I  might  have  said  something  rude 
about  him  in  a  minute. " 

"Like  me ! "  said  Billy,  stumbling  to  his  feet.  " I  made  a 
most  horrific  blunder,  didn't  I,  Mr.  Studley?  I  called  him 
a  bounder!" 

Dinah  looked  at  him  witheringly.  "You  would!"  she 
said.  "Well,  I  hope  you  apologized." 

Billy  stuck  out  his  tongue  at  her.  "I  didn't  then!" 
he  returned,  and  skated  elegantly  away  on  one  leg. 

"Billy,"  remarked  Dinah  dispassionately,  "is  not  really 
such  a  horrid  little  beast  as  he  seems." 

Scott  smiled  his  courteous  smile.  "I  had  already 
gathered  that,"  he  said. 


16  Greatheart 

Her  green  eyes  darted  him  a  swift  look,  as  if  to  ascertain 
if  he  were  in  earnest.  Then :  "That  was  very  nice  of  you, " 
she  said.  "I  wonder  how  you  knew." 

He  still  smiled,  but  without  much  mirth.  "A  looker-on 
sees  a  good  many  things,  you  know, "  he  said. 

Dinah's  eyes  flashed  understanding.     She  said  no  more. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  SEARCH 

WHEN  Isabel  came  slowly  forth  at  length  from  the 
hotel  door   whither    Biddy   had    conducted   her, 
Scott  was  sitting  alone  on  a  bench  in  the  sunshine. 

He  rose  at  once  to  join  her.  "Why,  how  quick  you  have 
been !  Or  else  the  time  flies  here.  Eustace  is  still  skating. 
I  had  no  idea  he  was  so  accomplished.  See,  there  he  is!" 
But  Isabel  set  her  haggard  face  towards  the  mountain- 
road  that  wound  up  beyond  the  hotel.  "  I  am  going  to  look 
for  Basil, "  she  said. 

"It  is  waste  of  time, "  said  Scott  quietly. 
But  he  did  not  attempt  to  withstand  her.     They  turned 
side  by  side  up  the  hard,  snowy  track. 

For  some  time  they  walked  in  silence.  At  a  short  dis- 
tance from  the  hotel,  the  road  ascended  steeply  through 
a  pine-wood,  dark  and  mysterious  as  an  enchanted  forest, 
through  which  there  rose  the  sound  of  a  rushing  stream. 
Scott  paused  to  listen,  but  instantly  his  sister  laid 
an  imperious  hand  upon  him. 

'I  can't  wait,"  she  said.     "I  am  sure  he  is  just  round 
corner.     I  heard  him  whistle. " 

He  moved  on  in  response  to  her  insistence.     ' '  I  heard  that 
thistle  too, "  he  said.     "But  it  was  a  mountain-boy. " 

He  was   right.      At  a  curve  in  the  road,  they  met  a 
young  Swiss  lad  who  went  by  them  with  a  smile  and  salute, 
and  fell  to  whistling  again  when  he  had  passed. 
2  17 


1 8  Greatheart 

Isabel  pressed  on  in  silence.  She  had  started  in  feverish 
haste,  but  her  speed  was  gradually  slackening.  She  looked 
neither  to  right  nor  left;  her  eyes  perpetually  strained  for- 
ward as  though  they  sought  for  something  just  beyond 
their  range  of  vision.  For  a  while  Scott  limped  beside  her 
without  speaking,  but  at  last  as  they  sighted  the  end  of  the 
pine-wood  he  gently  broke  the  silence. 

"Isabel  dear,  I  think  we  must  turn  back  very  soon." 

"Oh,  why?"  she  said.  "Why?  You  always  say  that 
when — "  There  came  a  break  in  her  voice,  and  she  ceased 
to  speak. 

Her  pace  quickened  so  that  he  had  some  difficulty  in 
keeping  up  with  her,  but  he  made  no  protest.  With  the 
utmost  patience  he  also  pressed  on. 

But  it  was  not  long  before  her  strength  began  to  fail. 
She  stumbled  once  or  twice,  and  he  put  a  supporting 
hand  under  her  elbow.  As  they  neared  the  edge  of 
the  pines  it  became  evident  that  the  road  dwindled  to 
a  mere  mountain-path  winding  steeply  upwards  through 
the  snow.  The  sun  shone  dazzlingly  upon  the  great  waste 
of  whiteness. 

Very  suddenly  Isabel  stopped.  "He  can't  have  gone 
this  way  after  all, "  she  said,  and  turned  to  her  brother  with 
eyes  of  tragic  hopelessness.  "Stumpy,  Stumpy,  what  shall 
I  do?" 

He  drew  her  hand  very  gently  through  his  arm.  "We 
will  go  back,  dear, "  he  said. 

A  low  sob  escaped  her,  but  she  did  not  weep.  "If  I 
only  had  the  strength  to  go  on  and  on  and  on!"  she  said. 
"I  know  I  should  find  him  some  day  then. " 

"You  will  find  him  some  day,"  he  answered  with  grave 
assurance.  "But  not  yet." 

They  went  back  to  the  turn  in  the  road  where  the  sound 
of  the  stream  rose  like  fairy  music  from  an  unseen  glen. 
The  snow  lay  pure  and  untrodden  under  the  trees. 


The  Search  19 

Scott  paused  again,  and  this  time  Isabel  made  no  remon- 
strance. They  stood  together  listening  to  the  rush  of  the 
torrent. 

"How  beautiful  this  place  must  be  in  springtime!"  he 
said. 

She  gave  a  sharp  shiver.     "It  is  like  a  dead  world  now. " 

"A  world  that  will  very  soon  rise  again,"  he  answered. 

She  looked  at  him  with  vague  eyes.  "You  are  always 
talking  of  the  resurrection,"  she  said. 

"When  I  am  with  you,  I  am  often  thinking  of  it, "  he  said 
with  simplicity. 

A  haunted  look  came  into  her  face.  "But  that  implies — 
death, "  she  said,  her  voice  very  low. 

"And  what  is  Death  ? "  said  Scott  gently,  as  if  he  reasoned 
with  a  child.  "Do  you  think  it  is  more  than  a  step  further 
into  Life?  The  passing  of  a  boundary,  that  is  all." 

"But  there  is  no  returning!"  she  protested  piteously. 
"It  must  be  more  than  that." 

"My  dear,  there  is  never  any  returning, "  he  said  gravely. 
"None  of  us  can  go  backwards.  Yesterday  is  but  a  step 
away,  but  can  we  retrace  that  step?  No,  not  one  of  us. " 

She  made  a  sudden,  almost  fierce  gesture.  "Oh,  to  go 
back!"  she  cried.  "Oh,  to  go  back!  Why  should  we  be 
forced  blindly  forward  when  we  only  want  to  go  back?" 

"That  is  the  universal  law, "  said  Scott.  "That  is  God's 
Will." 

"It  is  cruel!     It  is  cruel!"  she  wailed. 

"No,  it  is  merciful.  So  long  as  there  is  Death  in  the 
world  we  must  go  on.  We  have  got  to  get  past  Death. " 

She  turned  her  tragic  eyes  upon  him.  "And  what  then? 
What  then?" 

Scott  was  gazing  steadfastly  into  her  face  of  ravaged 
beauty.  "Then — the  resurrection,"  he  said.  "There  are 
millions  of  people  in  the  world,  Isabel,  who  are  living  out 
their  lives  solely  for  the  sake  of  that,  because  they  know  that 


20  Greatheart 

if  they  only  keep  on,  the  Resurrection  will  give  back  to 
them  all  that  they  have  lost.  My  dear,  it  is  not  going  back 
that  could  help  anyone.  The  past  is  past,  the  present  is 
passing;  there  is  only  the  future  that  can  restore  all  things. 
We  are  bound  to  go  forward,  and  thank  God  for  it!" 

Her  eyes  fell  slowly  before  his.  She  did  not  speak,  but 
after  a  moment  gave  him  her  hand  with  a  shadowy  smile. 
They  continued  the  descent  side  by  side. 

Another  curve  of  the  road  brought  them  within  sight  of 
the  hotel. 

Scott  broke  the  silence.  "Here  is  Eustace  coming,  to 
meet  us!" 

She  looked  up  with  a  start,  and  into  her  face  came  a 
curious,  veiled  expression,  half  furtive,  half  afraid. 

"Don't  tell  him,  Stumpy!"  she  said  quickly. 

"What,  dear?" 

"Don't  tell  him  I  have  been  looking  for  Basil  this  morn- 
ing. He — he  wouldn't  understand.  And — and — you 
know — I  must  look  for  him  sometimes.  I  shall  lose  him 
altogether  if  I  don't. " 

"Shall  we  pretend  we  are  enjoying  ourselves?"  said  Scott 
with  a  smile. 

She  answered  him  with  feverish  earnestness.  ' '  Yes — yes ! 
Let  us  do  that !  And,  Stumpy,  Stumpy  dear,  you  are  good, 
you  can  pray.  I  can't,  you  know.  Will  you — will  you 
pray  sometimes — that  I  may  find  him?" 

"I  shall  pray  that  your  eyes  may  be  opened,  Isabel," 
he  answered,  "so  that  you  may  know  you  have  never  really 
lost  him." 

She  smiled  again,  her  fleeting,  phantom  smile.  "Don't 
pray  for  the  impossible,  Stumpy!"  she  said.  "I — I  think 
that  would  be  a  mistake. " 

"Is  anything  impossible?"  said  Scott. 

He  raised  his  hand  before  she  could  make  any  answer, 
and  sent  a  cheery  holloa  down  to  his  brother  who  waved 


The  Search  21 

a  swift  response.     They  quickened  their  steps   to  meet 
him. 

Eustace  was  striding  up  the  hill  with  the  easy  swing 
of  a  giant.  He  held  out  both  hands  to  Isabel  as  he  drew 
near.  She  pulled  herself  free  from  Scott,  and  went  to  him 
as  one  drawn  by  an  unseen  force. 

"Ah,  that's  right,"  he  said,  and  bent  to  kiss  her.  "I'm 
glad  you've  been  for  a  walk.  But  you  might  have  come 
and  spoken  to  me  first.  I  was  only  on  the  rink." 

"  I  didn't  want  to  see  a  lot  of  people,  "  said  Isabel,  shrink- 
ing a  little.  "I — I  don't  like  so  many  strangers,  Eustace." 

"Oh,  nonsense ! "  he  said  lightly.  ' '  You  have  been  buried 
too  long.  It's  time  you  came  out  of  your  shell.  I  shan't 
take  you  home  again  till  you  have  quite  got  over  that." 

His  tone  was  kindly  but  it  held  authority.  Isabel 
attempted  no  protest.  Only  she  looked  away  over  the 
sparkling  world  of  white  and  blue  with  something  near 
akin  to  despair  in  her  eyes. 

Scott  took  out  his  cigarette-case,  and  handed  it  to  his 
brother.  "Isabel's  birthday  present  to  me!"  he  said. 

Eustace  examined  it  with  a  smile.  ' '  Very  nice !  Did  you 
think  of  it  all  by  yourself,  Isabel?" 

"No,"  she  said  with  dreary  listlessness.  "Biddy  re- 
minded me." 

Eustace's  face  changed.  He  frowned  slightly  and  gave 
the  case  back  to  his  brother. 

"Have  a  cigarette!"  said  Scott. 

He  took  one  absently,  and  Scott  did  the  same. 

"How  did  you  get  on  with  the  lady  in  red ? "  he  asked. 

Eustace  threw  him  a  glance  half-humorous,  half-mali- 
cious. "If  it  comes  to  that,  how  did  you  get  on  with  the 
little  brown  girl?" 

"Oh,  very  nicely,"  smiled  Scott.  "Her  name  is  Dinah. 
Your  lady's  name  is  Rose  de  Vigne,  if  you  care  to  know." 

"Really?"  said  Eustace.     "And  who  told  you  that?" 


22  Greatheart 

"Dinah,  of  course,  or  Dinah's  brother.  I  forget  which. 
They  belong  to  the  same  party." 

"I  should  think  that  little  snub-nosed  person  feels  some- 
what in  the  shade,  "  observed  Eustace. 

"I  expect  she  does.  But  she  has  plenty  of  wits  to  make 
up  for  it.  She  seems  to  find  life  quite  an  interesting  enter- 
tainment. " 

"She  can't  skate  a  bit,"  said  Eustace. 

"Can't  she?  You'll  have  to  give  her  a  hint  or  two.  I 
am  sure  she  would  be  very  grateful." 

"Did  she  tell  you  so?" 

"  I'm  not  going  to  tell  you  what  she  told  me.  It  wouldn't 
be  fair. " 

Eustace  laughed  with  easy  tolerance.  "Oh,  I've  no 
objection  to  giving  her  a  hand  now  and  then  if  she's  amus- 
ing, and  doesn't  become  a  nuisance.  I'm  not  going  to  let  my- 
self be  bored  by  anybody  this  trip.  I'm  out  for  sport  only. " 

"It's  a  lovely  place, "  observed  Scott. 

"Oh,  perfect.  I'm  going  to  ski  this  afternoon.  How  do 
you  like  it,  Isabel?" 

Abruptly  the  elder  brother  accosted  her.  She  was  walk- 
ing between  them  as  one  in  a  dream.  She  started  at  the 
sound  of  her  name. 

"I  don't  know  yet,"  she  said.  "It  is  rather  cold,  isn't 
it?  I — I  am  not  sure  that  I  shall  be  able  to  sleep  here." 

Eustace's  eyes  held  hers  for  a  moment.  "Oh,  no  one 
expects  to  sleep  here, "  he  said  lightly.  "You  skate  all  day 
and  dance  all  night.  That's  the  programme." 

Her  lips  parted  a  little.     "I — dance!"  she  said. 

"Why  not?"  said  Eustace. 

She  made  a  gesture  that  was  almost  expressive  of  horror. 
"When  I  dance,  "  she  said,  in  her  deep  voice,  "you  may  put 
me  under  lock  and  key  for  good  and  all,  for  I  shall  be  mad 
indeed. " 

"Don't  be  silly!"  he  said  sharply. 


The  Search  23 

She  shrank  as  if  at  a  blow,  and  on  the  instant  very 
quietly  Scott  intervened.  "Isabel  and  I  prefer  to  look  on,  " 
he  said,  drawing  her  hand  gently  through  his  arm.  "I 
fancy  it  suits  us  both  best." 

His  eyes  met  his  brother's  quick  frown  deliberately, 
with  the  utmost  steadiness,  and  for  a  few  electric  seconds 
there  was  undoubted  tension  between  them.  Isabel  was 
aware  of  it,  and  gripped  the  supporting  arm  very  closely. 

Then  with  a  shrug  Eustace  turned  from  the  contest. 
"  Oh,  go  your  own  way !  It's  all  one  to  me.  You're  one  of 
the  slow  coaches  that  never  get  anywhere. " 

Scott  said  nothing  whatever.  He  smoked  his  cigarette 
without  a  sign  of  perturbation.  Save  for  a  certain  steeliness 
in  his  pale  eyes,  his  habitually  placid  expression  remained 
unaltered. 

He  walked  in  silence  for  a  few  moments,  then  without 
effort  began  to  talk  in  a  general  strain  of  their  journey 
of  the  previous  day.  Had  Isabel  cared  about  the  sleigh- 
ride?  If  so,  they  would  go  again  one  day. 

She  lighted  up  in  response  with  an  animation  which  she 
had  not  displayed  during  the  whole  walk.  Her  eyes  shone 
a  little,  as  with  a  far-off  fire  of  gratitude. 

"I  should  like  it  if  you  would,  Stumpy,"  she  said. 

"Then  we  will  certainly  go, "  he  said.  "I  should  enjoy  it 
very  much." 

Eustace  came  out  of  a  somewhat  sullen  silence  to  throw  a 
glance  of  half-reluctant  approval  towards  his  brother.  He 
plainly  regarded  Scott's  move  as  an  achievement  of  some 
importance. 

"Yes,  go  by  all  means!"  he  said.  "Enjoy  yourselves. 
That's  all  I  ask." 

Isabel's  faint  smile  flitted  across  her  tired  face,  but  she 
said  nothing. 

Only  as  they  reached  and  entered  the  hotel,  she  pressed 
Scott's  hand  for  a  moment  in  both  her  own. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  MAGICIAN 

'  \  X  7 ELL,  Dinah,  my  dear,  are  you  ready?" 

V  V  Rose  de  Vigne,  very  slim  and  graceful,  with  her 
beautiful  hair  mounted  high  above  her  white  forehead  and 
falling  in  a  shower  of  golden  ringlets  behind  after  the  style 
of  a  hundred  years  ago,  stood  on  the  threshold  of  Dinah's 
room,  awaiting  permission  to  enter.  Her  dress  was  of  palest 
green  satin  brocade,  a  genuine  Court  dress  of  a  century 
old.  Her  arms  and  neck  gleamed  with  a  snowy  whiteness. 
She  looked  as  if  she  had  just  stepped  out  of  an  ancient 
picture. 

There  came  an  impatient  cry  from  within  the  room. 
"Oh,  come  in!     Come  in!     I'm  not  nearly  ready, — never 
shall  be,  I  think.     Where  is  Yvonne?     Couldn't  she  spare 
me  a  single  moment?" 

The  beautiful  lady  entered  with  a  smile.  She  could 
afford  to  smile,  being  complete  to  the  last  detail  and  quite 
sure  of  taking  the  ballroom  by  storm.  She  found  Dinah 
scurrying  barefooted  about  the  room  with  her  hair  in  a 
loose  bunch  on  her  neck,  her  attire  of  the  scantiest  descrip- 
tion, her  expression  one  of  wild  desperation. 

"  I've  lost  my  stockings.  Where  can  they  be?  I  know  I 
had  them  this  morning.  Can  Yvonne  have  taken  them  by 
mistake?  She  put  everything  ready  for  me, — or  said  she 
had." 

The  bed  was  littered  with  articles  .of  clothing  all  flung 

24 


The  Magician  25 

together  in  hopeless  confusion.  Rose  came  forward. 
"Surely  Yvonne  didn't  leave  your  things  like  this?"  she 
said. 

"No.  I've  been  hunting  through  everything  for  the 
stockings.  Where  can  they  be?  I  shall  have  to  go  with- 
out them,  that's  all." 

"  My  dear  child,  they  can't  be  far  away.  You  had  better 
get  on  with  your  hair  while  I  look  for  them.  I  am  afraid 
you  will  not  be  able  to  count  on  any  help  from  Yvonne 
to-night.  She  has  only  just  finished  dressing  me,  and  has 
gone  now  to  help  Mother.  You  know  what  that  means." 

"Oh,  goodness,  yes!"  said  Dinah.  "I  wish  I'd  never 
gone  in  for  this  stupid  fancy  dress  at  all.  I  shall  never  be 
done." 

Rose  smiled  in  her  indulgent  way.  She  was  always  kind 
to  Dinah.  "Well,  I  can  help  you  for  a  few  minutes.  I 
can't  think  how  you  come  to  be  so  late.  I  thought  you 
came  in  long  ago. " 

' '  Yes,  but  Billy  wanted  some  buttons  sewn  on,  and  that 
hindered  me."  Dinah  was  dragging  at  her  hair  with 
impatient  fingers.  "What  a  swell  you  look,  Rose!  I'm 
sure  no  one  will  dare  to  ask  you  for  any  but  square  dances. " 

"Do  you  think  so,  dear?"  said  Rose,  looking  at  herself 
complacently  in  the  glass  over  Dinah's  head. 

Dinah  made  a  sudden  and  hideous  grimace.  "Oh,  drat 
my  hair!  I  can't  do  anything  with  it.  I  believe  I  shall  cut 
it  all  off,  put  on  just  a  pinafore,  and  go  as  a  piccaninny." 

"That  sounds  a  little  vulgar,"  observed  Rose.  "There 
are  your  stockings  under  the  bed.  You  must  have  dropped 
them  under.  I  should  think  the  more  simply  you  do  your 
hair  the  better  if  you  are  going  to  wear  a  coloured  kerchief 
over  it.  You  have  natural  ringlets  in  front,  and  that  is  the 
only  part  that  will  show. " 

"And  they  will  hang  down  over  my  eyes,"  retorted 
Dinah,  "unless  I  fasten  them  back  with  a  comb,  which 


26  Greatheart 

I  haven't  got.  Oh,  don't  stay,  Rose!  I  knovr  you  are 
wanting  to  go,  and  you  can't  help  me.  I  shall  manage 
somehow." 

"Are  you  quite  sure?"  said  Rose  turning  again  to  survey 
herself. 

"Quite — quite!  I  shall  get  on  best  alone.  I'm  in  a 
bad  temper  too,  and  I  want  to  use  language — horrid 
language, "  said  Dinah,  tugging  viciously  at  her  dark  hair. 

Rose  lowered  her  stately  gaze  and  watched  her  for  a 
moment.  Then  as  Dinah's  green  eyes  suddenly  flashed 
resentful  enquiry  upon  her  she  lightly  touched  the  girl's 
flushed  cheek,  and  turned  away.  "Poor  little  Dinah!"  she 
said. 

The  door  closed  upon  her  graceful  figure  in  its  old-world, 
sweeping  robe  and  Dinah  whizzed  round  from  the  glass 
like  a  naughty  fairy  in  a  rage.  "Rose  de  Vigne,  I  hate 
you!"  she  said  aloud,  and  stamped  her  unshod  foot  upon 
the  floor. 

A  period  of  uninterrupted  misfortune  followed  this  out- 
burst. Everything  went  wrong.  The  costume  which  the 
French  maid  had  so  deftly  fitted  upon  her  that  morning 
refused  to  be  adjusted  properly.  The  fastenings  baffled 
her,  and  finally  a  hook  at  the  back  took  firm  hold  of  the  lawn 
of  her  sleeve  and  maliciously  refused  to  be  disentangled 
therefrom. 

Dinah  struggled  for  freedom  for  some  minutes  till  the 
lawn  began  to  tear,  and  then  at  last  she  became  desperate. 
"Billy  must  do  it, "  she  said,  and  almost  in  tears  she  threw 
open  the  door  and  ran  down  the  passage. 

Billy's  room  was  round  a  corner,  and  this  end  of  the 
corridor  was  dim.  As  she  turned  it,  she  almost  collided  with 
a  figure  coming  in  the  opposite  direction — a  boyish-looking 
figure  in  evening  dress  which  she  instantly  took  for  Billy. 

"Oh,  there  you  are!"  she  exclaimed.  "Do  come  along 
and  help  me  like  a  saint !  I'm  in  such  a  fix. " 


The  Magician  27 

There  was  an  instant's  pause  before  she  discovered  her 
mistake,  and  then  in  the  same  moment  a  man's  voice 
answered  her. 

"Of  course  I  will  help  you  with  pleasure.  What  is 
wrong?" 

Dinah  started  back,  as  if  she  would  flee  in  dismay.  But 
perhaps  it  was  the  kindness  of  his  response,  or  possibly  only 
the  extremity  of  her  need — something  held  her  there.  She 
stood  her  ground  as  it  were  in  spite  of  herself. 

"Oh,  it  is  you!  I  do  beg  your  pardon.  I  thought  it  was 
Billy.  I've  got  my  sleeve  caught  up  at  the  back,  and  I 
want  him  to  undo  it.  " 

"I'll  undo  it  if  you  will  allow  me, "  said  Scott. 

"Oh,  would  you?  How  awfully  kind!  My  arm  is 
nearly  broken  with  trying  to  get  free.  You  can't  see 
here  though,"  said  Dinah.  "There's  a  light  by  my 
door. " 

"Let  us  go  to  it  then!"  said  Scott.  "I  know  what  it  is 
to  have  things  go  wrong  at  a  critical  time." 

He  accompanied  her  back  again  with  the  utmost  simpli- 
city, stopped  by  the  light,  and  proceeded  with  considerable 
deftness  to  remedy  the  mischief. 

"Oh,  thank  you!"  said  Dinah,  with  heart-felt  gratitude 
as  he  freed  her  at  last.  "Billy  would  have  torn  the  stuff 
in  all  directions.  I'm  dressing  against  time,  you  see,  and 
I've  no  one  to  help  me." 

"Do  you  want  any  more  help?"  asked  Scott,  looking  at 
her  with  a  quizzical  light  in  his  eyes. 

She  laughed,  albeit  she  was  still  not  far  from  tears.  "Yes, 
I  want  someone  to  pin  a  handkerchief  on  my  head  in  the 
proper  Italian  fashion.  I  don't  look  much  like  a  contadina 
yet,  do  I?" 

He  surveyed  her  more  critically.  "  It's  not  a  bad  get-up. 
You  look  very  nice  anyhow.  If  you  like  to  bring  me  the 
handkerchief,  I  will  see  what  I  can  do.  I  know  a  little 


28  Greatheart 

about  it  from  the  point  of  view  of  an  amateur  artist.  You 
want  some  earrings.  Have  you  got  any?" 

Dinah  shook  her  head.     "Of  course  not. " 

"  I  beliere  my  sister  has, "  said  Scott.     "  I'll  go  and  see." 

"Oh  no,  no!  What  will  she  think?"  cried  Dinah  in  dis- 
tress. 

He  uttered  his  quiet  laugh.  "I  will  present  you  to  her 
by-and-bye  if  I  may.  I  am  sure  she  will  be  interested  and 
pleased.  You  finish  off  as  quickly  as  you  can!  I  shall  be 
back  directly. " 

He  limped  away  again  down  the  passage,  moving  more 
quickly  than  was  his  wont,  and  Dinah  hastened  back  into 
her  room  wondering  if  this  informality  would  be  regarded 
by  her  chaperon  as  a  great  breach  of  etiquette. 

"Rose  thinks  I'm  vulgar, "  she  murmured  to  herself.  "I 
wonder  if  I  really  am.  But  really — he  is  such  a  dear  little 
man.  How  could  I  possibly  help  it?" 

The  dear  little  man's  return  put  an  end  to  her  specula- 
tions. He  came  back  in  an  incredibly  short  time,  armed 
with  a  leather  jewel-case  which  he  deposited  on  the  thresh- 
old. 

Dinah  came  light-footed  to  join  him,  all  her  grievances 
forgotten.  Her  hair,  notwithstanding  its  waywardness, 
clustered  very  prettily  about  her  face.  There  was  a 
bewitching  dimple  near  one  corner  of  her  mouth. 

"You  can  come  in  if  you  like,"  she  said.  "I'm  quite 
dressed — all  except  the  handkerchief." 

"Thank  you;  but  I  won't  come  in, "  he  answered.  "We 
mustn't  shock  anybody.  If  you  could  bring  a  chair  out, 
I  could  manage  quite  well. " 

She  fetched  the  chair.  "If  anyone  conies  down  the 
passage,  they'll  wonder  what  on  earth  we  are  doing, "  she 
remarked. 

"They  will  take  us  for  old  friends,"  said  Scott  in  a  matter- 
of-fact  tone  as  he  opened  the  jewel-case. 


The  Magician  29 

She  laughed  delightedly.  There  was  a  peculiarly  happy 
quality  about  her  laugh.  Most  people  smiled  quite  in- 
voluntarily when  they  heard  it,  though  Billy  compared  it 
to  the  neigh  of  a  cheery  colt. 

"Now,"  said  Scott,  looking  at  her  quizzically,  "are 
you  going  to  sit  in  the  chair,  or  am  I  going  to  stand 
on  it?" 

"Oh,  I'll  sit,"  she  said.  "Here's  the  handkerchief! 
You  will  fasten  it  so  that  it  doesn't  flop,  won't  you?  May 
I  hold  that  case?  I  won't  touch  anything." 

He  put  it  open  into  her  lap.  "There  is  a  chain  of  coral 
there.  Perhaps  you  can  find  it.  I  think  it  would  look  well 
with  your  costume. " 

Dinah  pored  over  the  jewels  with  sparkling  eyes.  "But 
are  you  sure — quite  sure — your  sister  doesn't  mind?" 

"Quite  sttre, "  said  Scott,  beginning  to  drape  the  hand- 
kerchief adroitly  over  her  bent  head. 

"How  very  sweet  of  her — of  you  both!"  said  Dinah. 
"  I  feel  like  Cinderella  being  dressed  for  the  ball.  Oh,  what 
lovely  pearls?  I  never  saw  anything  so  exquisite." 

She  had  opened  an  inner  case  and  was  literally  revelling 
in  its  contents. 

"They  were — her  husband's  wedding  present  to  her," 
said  Scott  in  his  rather  monotonous  voice. 

"How  lovely  it  must  be  to  be  married!"  said  Dinah, 
with  a  little  sigh. 

"Do  you  think  so?"  said  Scott. 

She  turned  in  her  chair  to  regard  him.     "  Don't  you? " 

"I  can't  quite  imagine  it,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  can't  I!"  said  Dinah.  "To  have  someone  in  love 
with  you,  wanting  no  one  but  you,  thinking  there's  no  one 
else  in  the  world  like  you.  Have  you  never  dreamt  that 
such  a  thing  has  happened  ?  I  have.  And  then  waked  up 
to  find  everything  very  flat  and  uninteresting. " 

Scott  was  intent  upon  fastening  an  old  gold  brooch  in 


30  Greatheart 

the  red  kerchief  above  her  forehead.     He  did  not  meet  the 
questioning  of  her  bright  eyes. 

"No,"  he  said.  "I  don't  think  I  ever  cajoled  myself, 
either  waking  or  sleeping,  into  imagining  that  anybody 
would  ever  fall  in  love  with  me  to  that  extent.  " 

Dinah  laughed,  her  upturned  face  a-brim  with  merri- 
ment. "If  any  woman  ever  wants  to  marry  you,  she'll 
have  to  do  her  own  proposing,  won't  she?"  she  said. 

"I  think  she  will,"  said  Scott. 

"  I  wish  Rose  de  Vigne  would  fall  in  love  with  you  then, " 
declared  Dinah.  "Men  are  always  proposing  to  her,  she 
leads  them  on  till  they  make  perfect  idiots  of  themselves. 
I  think  it's  simply  horrid  of  her  to  do  it.  But  she  says  she 
can't  help  being  beautiful.  Oh,  how  I  wish — "  Dinah 
broke  off. 

"What  do  you  wish?"  said  Scott. 

She  turned  her  face  away  to  hide  a  blush.  "You  must 
think  me  very  silly  and  childish.  So  I  am,  but  I'm  not  gen- 
erally so.  I  think  it's  in  the  air  here.  I  was  going  to  say, 
how  I  wished  I  could  outshine  her  for  just  one  night !  Isn't 
that  piggy  of  me?  But  I  am  so  tired  of  being  always  in  the 
shade.  She  called  me  'Poor  little  Dinah!'  only  to-night. 
How  would  you  like  to  be  called  that?" 

"Most  people  call  me  Stumpy, "  observed  Scott,  with  his 
whimsical  little  smile. 

" How  rude  of  them !  How  horrid  of  them?"  said  Dinah. 
"And  do  you  actually  put  up  with  it? " 

He  bent  with  her  over  the  jewel-case,  and  picked  out  the 
coral  chain.  "I  don't  care  the  toss  of  a  halfpenny,"  he 
said. 

She  gave  him  a  quick,  searching  glance.  "Not  really? 
Not  in  your  secret  heart?" 

"  Not  in  the  deepest  depth  of  my  unfathomable  soul,  "  he 
declared. 

"  Then  you're  a  great  man,  "  said  Dinah,  with  conviction. 


The  Magician  31 

Scott's  laugh  was  one  of  genuine  amusement.  "Oh,  does 
that  follow?  I've  never  seen  myself  in  that  light  before. " 

But  Dinah  was  absolutely  serious  and  remained  so. 
There  was  even  a  touch  of  reverence  in  her  look.  "You 
evidently  don't  know  yourself  in  the  least,"  she  said. 
"Anyhow,  you've  made  me  feel  a  downright  toad." 

"I  don't  know  why,"  said  Scott.  "You  don't  look  like 
one  if  that's  any  comfort. "  He  stooped  to  fasten  the  neck- 
lace. "Now  for  the  earrings,  and  you  are  complete. " 

" It  is  good  of  you, "  she  said  gratefully.  "I  am  longing 
to  go  and  look  at  myself.  But  can  you  fasten  them  first? 
I'm  sure  I  can't. " 

He  complied  with  his  almost  feminine  dexterity,  and  in 
a  few  moments  a  sparkling  and  glorified  Dinah  rose  and 
skipped  into  her  room  to  see  the  general  effect  of  her 
transformation . 

Scott  lingered  to  close  the  jewel-case.  Frankly,  he 
had  enjoyed  himself  during  the  last  ten  minutes.  More- 
over he  was  sure  she  would  be  pleased  with  the  result  of  his 
labours.  But  he  was  hardly  prepared  for  the  cry  of  delight 
that  reached  him  as  he  turned  to  depart. 

He  paused  as  he  heard  it,  and  in  a  moment  Dinah  flashed 
out  again  like  a  radiant  butterfly  and  gave  him  both  her 
hands. 

"You — magician!"  she  cried.  "How  did  you  do  it? 
How  can  I  thank  you?  I've  never  been  so  nearly  pretty 
in  my  life!" 

He  bowed  in  courtly  fashion  over  the  little  brown  hands. 
' '  Then  you  have  never  seen  yourself  with  the  eyes  of  others, ' ' 
he  said.  "  I  congratulate  you  on  doing  so  to-night. " 

She  laughed  her  merry  laugh.  "Thank  you!  Thank 
you  a  hundred  times !  I've  only  one  thing  left  to  wish  for. " 

"What  is  that?"  he  said. 

She  told  him  with  a  touch  of  shyness.     "That — Apollc 
will  dance  with  me!" 


32  f       Greatheart 

Scott  laughed  and  let  her  go.  "Oh,  is  that  all?  Then 
I  will  certainly  see  that  he  does. " 

"Oh,  but  don't  tell  him!"  pleaded  Dinah. 

"I  never  repeat  confidences,"  declared  Scott.  "Good- 
bye, Signorina!" 

And  with  another  bow,  he  left  her. 


CHAPTER  V 

APOLLO 

'""PHE  salon  was  a  blaze  of  lights  and  many  shifting 
A  colours.  The  fantastic  crowd  that  trooped  thither 
from  the  salle-a-manger  was  like  a  host  of  tropical  flowers. 
The  talking  and  laughter  nearly  drowned  the  efforts  of  the 
string  band  in  the  far  corner. 

Scott  in  ordinary  evening-dress  stood  near  the  door 
talking  to  an  immense  Roman  Emperor,  looking  by  contrast 
even  smaller  and  more  insignificant  than  usual.  Yet  a 
closer  observation  would  have  shown  that  the  same  instinc- 
tive dignity  of  bearing  characterized  them  both.  Utterly 
unlike  though  they  were,  yet  in  this  respect  it  was  not 
difficult  to  trace  their  brotherhood.  Though  moulded  upon 
lines  so  completely  dissimilar,  they  bore  the  same  indelible 
stamp — the  stamp  of  good  birth  which  can  never  be  attained 
by  such  as  have  it  not.  Sir  Eustace  Studley  was  the  hand- 
somest man  in  the  room.  His  imperial  costume  suited 
his  somewhat  arrogant  carriage.  He  looked  like  a  man 
born  to  command.  His  keen  eyes  glanced  hither  and 
thither  with  an  eagle-like  intensity  that  missed  nothing. 
He  seemed  to  be  on  the  watch  for  someone. 

"Who  is  it?"  asked  Scott,  with  a  smile.  "The  lady  of 
the  rink?" 

The  black  brows  went  up  haughtily  for  a  moment,  then 
descended  in  an  answering  smile.  "She  is  the  only  woman 
I've  seen  here  yet  that's  worth  looking  at, "  he  observed. 
3  33 


34  Greatheart 

"Don't  you  be  too  sure  of  that!"  said  Scott.  "I  can 
show  you  a  little  Italian  peasant  girl  who  is  well  worth  your 
august  consideration.  I  think  you  ought  to  bestow  a  little 
favour  on  her  as  you  have  each  chosen  to  assume  the  same 
nationality." 

Sir  Eustace  laughed.  "A  protegee  of  yours,  eh?  That 
little  brown  girl,  I  suppose  ?  Charming  no  doubt,  my  dear 
fellow;  but  ordinary — distinctly  ordinary." 

"You  haven't  seen  her  yet, "  said  Scott.  "You  had  your 
back  to  her  in  the  salle-a-manger . " 

"Where  is  she  then?  You  had  better  find  her  before  the 
beautiful  Miss  de  Vigne  makes  her  appearance.  I  don't 
mind  giving  her  a  dance  or  two,  but  you  must  take  her  off 
my  hands  if  we  don't  get  on." 

"I  will  certainly  do  that,"  said  Scott  in  his  quiet  voice 
that  seemed  to  veil  a  touch  of  irony.  "I  believe  she  is  in 
the  vestibule  now.  No,  here  she  is!" 

Dinah,  with  laughing  lips  and  sparkling  eyes,  had  just 
ventured  to  the  door  with  Billy.  "We'll  just  peep,"  she 
said  to  her  brother  in  the  gay  young  tones  that  penetrated 
so  much  further  than  she  realized.  "But  I  shall  never  dare 
to  dance.  Why,  I've  never  even  seen  the  inside  of  a  ball- 
room before.  And  as  to  dancing  with  a  real  live  man — " 
She  broke  off  as  she  caught  sight  of  the  two  brothers  stand- 
ing together  near  the  entrance. 

Eustace  turned  his  restless  eyes  upon  her,  gave  her  a 
swift,  critical  glance  and  muttered  something  to  Scott. 

The  latter  at  once  stepped  forward,  receiving  a  smile  so 
radiant  that  even  Eustace  was  momentarily  dazzled.  The 
little  brown  girl  certainly  had  points. 

"May  I  introduce  my  brother?"  said  Scott.  "Sir  Eus- 
tace Studley — Miss — I  am  afraid  I  don't  know  your 
surname. " 

"Sketchy,"  murmured  Eustace,  as  he  bowed. 

But  Dinah  only  laughed  her  ringing,  merry  laugh.     "Of 


Apollo  35 

course  you  don't  know.  How  could  you?  Our  name  is 
Bathurst.  I'm  Dinah  and  this  is  Billy.  I  am  years 
older  than  he  is,  of  course. "  She  gave  Eustace  a  shy 
glance.  "How  do  you  do?" 

"She's  just  thirty,"  announced  Billy,  in  shrill,  cracked 
tones.  "She's  just  pretending  to  be  young  to-night,  but 
she  ain't  young  really.  You  should  see  her  without  her 
warpaint." 

The  music  became  somewhat  more  audible  at  this  point. 
Eustace  bent  slightly,  looking  down  at  the  girl  with  eyes 
that  were  suddenly  soft  as  velvet.  "They  are  beginning  to 
dance,"  he  said.  "May  I  have  the  pleasure?  It's  a  pity 
to  lose  time. " 

Her  red  lips  smiled  delighted  assent.  She  laid  her  hand 
with  a  feathery  touch  upon  the  arm  he  offered.  "Oh,  how 
lovely!"  she  said,  and  slid  into  his  hold  like  a  giddy  little 
water-fowl  taking  to  its  own  beloved  element. 

"Well,  I'm  jiggered!"  said  Billy.  "And  she's  never 
danced  with  a  man — except  of  course  me — before!" 

"Live  and  learn!"  said  Scott. 

He  watched  the  couple  go  up  the  great  room,  and  he 
saw  that,  as  he  had  suspected,  Dinah  was  an  exquisite 
dancer.  Her  whole  being  was  merged  in  movement.  She 
was  as  an  instrument  in  the  hand  of  a  skilled  player. 

Sir  Eustace  Studley  was  an  excellent  dancer  too,  though 
he  did  not  often  trouble  himself  to  dance  as  perfectly  as  he 
was  dancing  now.  It  was  not  often  that  he  had  a  partner 
worthy  of  his  best,  and  it  was  a  semi-conscious  habit  of  his 
never  voluntarily  to  give  better  than  he  received. 

But  this  little  gipsy-girl  of  Scott's  discovery  called  forth 
all  his  talent.  She  did  not  want  to  talk.  She  only  wanted 
to  dance,  to  spend  herself  in  a  passion  of  dancing  that  was  an 
ecstasy  beyond  all  speech.  She  was  as  sensitive  as  a  harp- 
string  to  his  touch ;  she  was  music,  she  was  poetry,  she  was 
charm.  The  witchery  of  her  began  to  possess  him.  Her 


36  Greatheart 

instant  response  to  his  mood,  her  almost  uncanny  interpre- 
tation thereof,  became  like  a  spell  to  his  senses.  From 
wonder  he  passed  to  delight,  and  from  delight  to  an  almost 
feverish  desire  for  more.  He  swayed  her  to  his  will  with  a 
well-nigh  savage  exultation,  and  she  gave  herself  up  to  it 
so  completely,  so  freely,  so  unerringly,  that  it  was  as  if  her 
very  individuality  had  melted  in  some  subtle  fashion  and 
become  part  of  his.  And  to  the  man  there  came  a  moment 
of  sheer  intoxication,  as  though  he  drank  and  drank  of  a 
sparkling,  inspiriting  wine  that  lured  him,  that  thrilled 
him,  that  enslaved  him. 

It  was  just  when  the  sensation  had  reached  its  height 
that  the  music  suddenly  quickened  for  the  finish.  That 
brought  him  very  effectually  to  earth.  He  ceased  to  dance 
and  led  her  aside. 

She  turned  her  bright  face  to  him  for  a  moment,  in  her 
eyes  the  dazed,  incredulous  look  of  one  awaking  from  an 
enthralling  dream.  "Oh,  can't  we  dance  it  out?"  she  said, 
as  if  she  pleaded  against  being  aroused. 

He  shook  his  head.  "I  never  dance  to  a  finish.  It's 
too  much  like  the  clown's  turn  after  the  transformation 
scene.  It  is  bathos  on  the  top  of  the  superb.  At  least  it 
would  be  in  this  case.  Who  in  wonder  taught  you  to  dance 
like  that?" 

Dinah  opened  her  eyes  a  little  wider  and  gave  him  the 
homage  of  shy  admiration ;  but  she  met  a  look  in  return  that 
amazed  her,  that  sent  the  blood  in  a  wild  unreasoning  race 
to  her  heart.  For  those  eyes  of  burning,  ardent  blue  had 
suddenly  told  her  something,  something  that  no  eyes  had 
ever  told  her  before.  It  was  incredible  but  true.  Homage 
had  met  homage,  aye,  and  more  than  homage.  There  was 
mastery  in  his  look;  but  there  was  also  wonder  and  a 
curious  species  of  half-grudging  reverence.  She  had 
amazed  him,  this  witch  with  the  sparkling  eyes  that  shone 
so  alluringly  under  the  scarlet  kerchief.  She  had  swept 


Apollo  37 

him  as  it  were  with  a  fan  of  flame.  She  had  made  him  live. 
And  he  had  pronounced  her  ordinary! 

"I  have  always  loved  to  dance,"  she  said  in  answer 
to  his  almost  involuntary  question.  "Do  you  like  my 
dancing?  I'm  so  glad.  " 

"Like  it!"  He  laughed  with  an  odd  shamefacedness. 
"I  could  dance  with  you  the  whole  evening.  But  I  should 
probably  end  by  making  a  fool  of  myself  like  a  man  who  has 
had  too  much  champagne.  " 

Dinah  laughed.  She  had  an  exhilarating  sense  of  having 
achieved  a  conquest  undreamed  of.  She  also  was  feeling  a 
little  giddy,  a  little  uncertain  of  the  ground  under  her  feet. 

"  Do  you  know, "  she  said,  dropping  her  eyes  instinctively 
before  the  fiery  intensity  of  his,  "I've  never  danced  with  a 
man  before?  I — I  was  a  little  afraid  just  at  first  lest  you 
should  find  me — gawky. " 

"Ye  gods!"  said  Sir  Eustace.  "And  you  have  really 
never  danced  with  a  man  before!  Tell  me!  How  did 
you  like  it?" 

"It  was — heavenly!"  said  Dinah,  drawing  a  deep  breath. 

"Will  you  dance  with  me  again?"  he  asked. 

She  nodded.     "Yes." 

"The  very  next  dance?" 

She  nodded  again.     "Yes." 

"And  again  after  that?"  said  Sir  Eustace. 

She  threw  him  a  glance  half -shy,  half -daring.  "Don't 
you  think  it  might  be  too  much  for  you?" 

He  laughed.     "  I'll  risk  it  if  you  will. " 

She  turned  towards  him  with  a  small,  confidential 
gesture.  "What  about  Rose  de  Vigne? "  she  said.  "  Don't 
you  want  to  dance  with  her?" 

" Oh,  presently, "  he  said.     "She'll  keep. " 

Dinah  broke  into  her  high,  sweet  laugh.  "And  what 
about — all  my  other  partners?"  she  said,  with  more 
assurance. 


38  Greatheart 

He  bent  to  her.  "They  must  keep  too.  Seriously,  you 
don't  want  to  dance  with  any  other  fellow,  do  you? " 

"  I'm  not  a  bit  serious, "  said  Dinah. 

"Do  you?"  he  insisted. 

She  lifted  her  eyes  momentarily. 

"You  don't?"  he  insinuated. 

She  surrendered  without  conditions.  "Of  course  I 
don't." 

"Then  you  mustn't,"  he  said.  "Consider  yourself 
booked  to  me  for  to-night,  and  when  you're  not  dancing 
with  me,  you  can  rest.  Sit  out  with  Scott  if  you  like! 
Will  you  do  that?" 

"Why?"  whispered  Dinah. 

Again  her  heart  was  beating  very  fast;  she  wondered 
why. 

He  answered  her  with  an  impetuosity  that  seemed  to 
carry  her  along  with  it.  "Because  your  dancing  is  superb, 
magnificent,  and  I  want  to  keep  it  for  myself.  It  may  not 
be  the  same  when  you've  danced  with  another  man.  A 
flower  fresh  plucked  is  always  sweeter  than  one  that  some- 
one else  has  worn. " 

Dinah's  hands  clasped  each  other  unconsciously.  She 
had  never  dreamed  that  Apollo  could  so  stoop  to  favour 
her. 

"I  will  do  as  you  like,"  she  murmured  after  a  moment. 
"But  I  don't  suppose  for  an  instant  that  anyone  else  would 
want  to  dance  with  me.  I  don't  know  anyone  else.  " 

He  smiled.  "I'm  glad  of  that.  It  would  be  sheer 
sacrilege  for  you  to  dance  with  a  young  oaf  who  didn't 
know  how.  It's  a  bargain  then.  I'll  give  you  all  I  can. 
You  mustn't  tell,  of  course. " 

"Oh,  I  won't  tell,"  laughed  Dinah. 

He  gave  her  his  arm.  "  They  are  tuning  up.  We  won't 
lose  a  minute.  I  always  like  a  clear  floor,  before  the  rabble 
begin." 


Apollo  39 

He  led  her  to  the  top  of  the  room,  stood  for  a  moment ; 
then,  as  the  music  began,  caught  her  to  him,  and  they 
floated  once  more  into  the  shining,  enchanted  mazes  of 
their  dreamland. 

And  Dinah  danced  as  one  inspired,  for  it  seemed  to  her 
that  her  feet  moved  upon  air  as  though  winged.  Apollo 
had  drawn  her  up  to  Olympus,  and  she  drifted  in  his  arms 
in  spheres  unknown,  far  above  the  clouds. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CINDERELLA 

and  sit  down!"  said  Scott. 

Dinah  gave  a  little  start.  She  was  standing  close 
to  him,  but  she  had  not  seen  him.  She  looked  at  him  for 
a  second  with  far-away  eyes,  as  if  she  did  not  know  him. 

Then  recognition  flashed  into  them.  She  smiled  an  eager 
greeting.  "Oh,  Mr.  Studley,  I  want  to  thank  you  for  the 
very  happiest  evening  of  my  life. " 

He  smiled  also  as  he  sat  down  beside  her.  "You  are 
enjoying  yourself?" 

"Oh  yes,  indeed  lam!"  she  assured  him.  "Thank  you 
a  hundred  million  times!" 

"Why  thank  me?"  questioned  Scott. 

She  drew  a  long,  long  breath.  "Because  you  were  the 
magician  who  pulled  the  strings.  I  should  never  have  got 
dressed  in  the  first  place  but  for  you. " 

He  gave  a  laugh  of  amused  protest.  "Oh,  surely!  I 
don't  feel  I  deserve  that!" 

She  laughed  with  him.  "You  did  it  anyhow.  And  in 
the  second  place  you  got  me  out  of  a  villainous  bad  temper 
and  turned  an  ugly  goblin  into  a  very  happy  butterfly. 
I'm  downright  ashamed  of  myself  for  being  so  horrid  about 
Rose  de  Vigne.  She  isn't  at  all  a  bad  sort  though  she  is  so 
impossibly  beautiful.  Your  brother  is  going  to  dance  with 
her  now.  See!  There  they  go !" 

She  looked  after  them  with  a  smile  of  complete  content. 

40 


Cinderella  41 

"You're  feeling  generous,  "  remarked  Scott. 

She  turned  to  him  again,  flushed  and  radiant.  "I  can 
afford  to — though  it's  for  the  first  time  in  my  life.  I've 
never  had  such  a  happy  time, — never,  never,  never!  Isn't 
your  brother  wonderful?  His  dancing  is — "  Words  failed 
her.  She  raised  her  hands  and  let  them  fall  with  a  gesture 
expressive  of  unbounded  admiration. 

"You  mustn't  let  him  monopolize  you,"  said  Scott.  "He 
has  plenty  to  choose  from,  you  know.  Others  haven't." 

She  laughed.  "He  says — I  wonder  if  it's  true! — he 
says  I  am  the  best  dancer  he  has  ever  met!" 

Scott  smiled  at  her  beaming  face.  "That  is  very  nice — 
for  him,"  he  observed.  "I  thought  you  seemed  to  be 
getting  on  very  well.  " 

Her  eyes  travelled  across  the  room  again  to  her  late 
partner  and  the  beautiful  Miss  de  Vigne.  She  watched 
them  intently  for  a  few  seconds. 

"Poor  Rose!"  she  said  suddenly. 

Scott  was  watching  her.  "Isn't  she  a  good  dancer?"  he 
asked. 

She  turned  back  to  him.  "Oh  yes,  I  believe  she  is.  She 
always  has  plenty  of  partners  anyway.  At  least  I've 
always  heard  so.  Is  your  sister  dancing?  I  don't  think 
I  can  have  seen  her  yet. " 

"No.     She  is  in  her  sitting-room  upstairs.     I  wanted 
her  to  come  down,  but  she  wouldn't  be  persuaded.     She — ' 
Scott  hesitated  a  moment — "is  not  fond  of  gaiety." 

"Then  I  shan't  see  her!"  said  Dinah  in  tones  of  genuine 
disappointment.  "I  did  so  want  to  thank  her  for  lending 
me  these  lovely  things. " 

"  I  can  take  you  to  her  if  you'll  come, "  said  Scott. 

"Oh,  can  you?  Yes,  I'll  come.  I  can  come  now.  But 
are  you  sure  she  will  like  it?"  Dinah's  bright  eyes  met  his 
with  frank  directness.  "I  don't  want  to  intrude  on  her, 
you  know,  "  she  said. 


42  Greatheart 

He  smiled  a  little.  "  I  am  sure  you  won't  intrude.  Shall 
we  go  then  ?  Are  you  sure  there  is  no  one  else  you  want 
to  dance  with  here?" 

"Oh,  quite  sure."  Again  momentarily  Dinah's  look 
sought  her  late  partner;  then  briskly  she  stood  up. 

Scott  rose  also,  and  gave  her  his  arm.  She  bestowed  a 
small,  friendly  squeeze  upon  it.  "I've  never  enjoyed 
myself  so  much  before,"  she  said.  "And  it's  all  your 
doing. " 

"Oh,  not  really!"  he  said. 

She  nodded  vigorously.  "But  it  is!  I  should  never 
have  been  presentable  but  for  you.  And  I  should  certainly 
never  have  danced  with  your  brother.  He  has  actually 
promised  to  help  me  with  my  skating  to-morrow.  Isn't  it 
kind  of  him?" 

"I  wonder,"  said  Scott. 

"What  do  you  wonder?"  Dinah  looked  at  him  curiously. 

But  he  only  smiled  a  baffling  smile,  and  turned  the 
subject.  "Wouldn't  you  like  something  to  drink  before 
we  go  up?" 

Dinah  declined.  She  was  not  in  the  least  thirsty.  She 
did  not  feel  as  if  she  would  ever  want  to  eat  or  drink  again. 

"Only  to  dance!"  said  Scott.  "Well,  I  mustn't  keep 
you  long  then.  Who  is  that  lady  making  signs  to  you? 
Hadn't  you  better  go  and  speak  to  her?" 

"Oh,  bother!"  said  Dinah.  "You  come  too,  then. 
It's  only  Lady  Grace — Rose's  mother.  I'm  sure  it  can't 
be  anything  important. " 

Scott  piloted  her  across  the  vestibule  to  the  couch  on 
which  Lady  Grace  sat.  She  was  a  large,  fair  woman  with 
limpid  eyes  and  drawling  speech.  She  extended  a  plump 
white  hand  to  the  girl. 

' '  Dinah,  my  dear,  I  think  you  have  had  almost  enough 
for  to-night.  And  they  were  so  very  behind  time  in  start- 
ing. Your  mother  would  not  like  you  to  stay  up  late,  I  feel 


Cinderella  43 

sure.  You  had  better  go  to  bed  when  this  dance  is  over. 
You  are  not  accustomed  to  dissipation,  remember." 

A  swift  cloud  came  over  Dinah's  bright  face.  "Oh, 
but,  Lady  Grace,  I'm  not  in  the  least  tired.  And  I'm  not  a 
baby,  you  know.  I'm  nearly  twenty.  I  really  couldn't  go 
yet." 

"You  will  have  plenty  more  opportunities,  dear,"  said 
Lady  Grace,  quite  unruffled.  "Rose  has  decided  to  retire 
after  this  dance,  and  I  shall  do  the  same.  The  Colonel  is 
suffering  with  dyspepsia,  and  he  does  not  wish  us  to  be 
late." 

Dinah  bit  her  lip.  "Oh,  very  well, "  she  said  somewhat 
shortly;  and  to  Scott,  "We  had  better  go  at  once  then." 

He  led  her  away  obediently.  They  ascended  the  stairs 
together. 

As  they  reached  the  top  of  the  flight  Dinah's  indignation 
burst  its  bounds.  "Isn't  it  too  bad?  Why  should  I  go  to 
bed  just  because  the  Colonel's  got  dyspepsia?  I  don't 
believe  it's  that  at  all  really.  It's  Rose  who  can't  bear  to 
think  that  I  am  having  as  good  a  time — or  better — than 
she  is.", 

"  May  I  say  what  I  think? "  asked  Scott  politely. 

She  stopped,  facing  him.     "Yes,  do!" 

He  was  smiling  somewhat  whimsically.  "  I  think  that — 
like  Cinderella — you  may  break  the  spell  if  you  stay  too 
long." 

"But  isn't  it  too  bad  ? "  protested  Dinah.  "Your  brother 
too — I  can't  disappoint  him.  " 

Scott's  smile  became  a  laugh.  "Oh,  believe  me,  it  would 
do  him  good,  Miss  Bathurst.  He  gets  his  own  way  much 
too  often. " 

She  smiled,  but  not  very  willingly.  "It  does  seem  such 
a  shame.  He  has  been — so  awfully  nice  to  me." 

"That's  nothing,"  said  Scott  airily.  "We  can  all  be 
nice  when  we  are  enjoying  ourselves. " 


44  Greatheart 

Dinah  looked  at  him  with  sudden  attention.  "Are  you 
pointing  a  moral?"  she  asked  severely. 

"Trying  to, "  said  Scott. 

She  tried  to  frown  upon  him,  but  very  abruptly  and 
completely  failed.  Her  pointed  chin  went  up  in  a  gay 
laugh.  "You  do  it  very  nicely,"  she  said.  "Thank  you, 
Mr.  Studley.  I  won't  be  grumpy  any  more.  It  would  be 
a  pity  to  break  the  spell,  as  you  say.  Will  you  explain  to 
the  prince?" 

"Certainly,"  he  said,  leading  her  on  again.  "I  shall 
make  it  quite  clear  to  him  that  Cinderella  was  not  to 
blame.  Here  is  our  sitting-room  at  the  end  of  this 
passage!" 

He  stopped  at  the  door  and  would  have  opened  it,  but 
Dinah,  smitten  with  sudden  shyness,  drew  back. 

"Hadn't  you  better  go  in  first  and — and  explain?"  she 
said. 

"Oh  no,  quite  unnecessary,"  he  said,  and  turned  the 
handle. 

At  once  a  woman's  voice  accosted  him.  "For  the  Lord's 
sake,  Master  Stumpy,  come  in  quick  and  shut  the  door 
behind  ye!  The  racket  downstairs  is  sending  Miss  Isabel 
nearly  crazy,  poor  lamb.  And  it's  meself  that's  wondering 
what  we'll  do  to-night,  for  there's  no  peace  at  all  in  this 
wooden  shanty  of  a  place. " 

"Be  quiet,  Biddy!"  Scott's  voice  made  calm,  undaunted 
answer.  "You  can  go  if  you  like.  I've  come  to  sit  with 
Miss  Isabel  for  a  while.  And  I've  brought  her  a  visitor. 
Isabel,  my  dear,  I've  brought  you  a  visitor. " 

Dinah  moved  forward  in  response  to  his  gentle  insistence, 
but  her  shyness  went  with  her.  She  was  aware  of  some- 
thing intangible  in  the  atmosphere  that  startled,  that 
almost  frightened,  her. 

The  gaunt  figure  of  a  woman  clad  in  a  long,  white  robe 
sat  at  a  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room  with  a  sheaf  of 


Cinderella  45 

letters  littered  before  her.  Her  emaciated  arms  were  flung 
wide  over  them,  her  white  head  was  bowed. 

But  at  Scott's  quiet  announcement,  it  was  raised  with 
the  suddenness  of  eager  expectancy.  For  the  fraction  of  a 
second  Dinah  saw  dark,  sunken  eyes  ablaze  with  a  hope 
that  was  almost  terrible  in  its  intensity. 

It  was  gone  on  the  instant.  They  looked  at  her  with 
a  species  of  dull  wonder.  "Are  you  a  friend  of  Scott's? 
I  am  very  pleased  to  meet  you, "  a  hollow  voice  said. 

A  thin  hand  was  extended  to  her,  and  as  Dinah  clasped  it 
a  sudden  great  pity  surged  through  her,  dispelling  her 
doubt.  Something  in  her  responded  swiftly,  even  passion- 
ately, to  the  hunger  of  those  eyes.  The  moment's  shock 
passed  from  her  like  a  cloud. 

"My  sister  Mrs.  Everard,"  said  Scott's  voice  at  her 
shoulder.  "Isabel,  this  is  Miss  Bathurst  of  whom  I  was 
telling  you." 

"You  lent  me  your  jewels, "  said  Dinah,  looking  into  the 
wasted  face  with  a  sympathy  at  her  heart  that  was  almost 
too  poignant  to  be  borne.  "Thank  you  so  very,  very  much 
for  them!  It  was  so  very  kind  of  you  to  lend  them  to  a 
total  stranger  like  me.  " 

The  strange  eyes  were  gazing  at  her  with  a  curious,  grow- 
ing interest.  A  faint,  faint  smile  was  in  their  depths. 
"Are  we  strangers,  child  ?"  the  low  voice  asked.  "  I  feel  as 
if  we  had  met  before.  Why  do  you  look  at  me  so  kindly? 
Most  people  only  stare. " 

Dinah  was  suddenly  conscious  of  a  hot  sensation  at  the 
throat  that  made  her  want  to  cry.  "It  is  you  who  have 
been  kind,"  she  said,  and  her  little  hand  closed  with  con- 
fidence upon  the  limp,  cold  fingers.  "I  am  wearing  your 
things  still,  and  I  have  had  such  a  lovely  time.  Thank 
you  again  for  letting  me  have  them.  I  am  going  to  return 
them  now. " 

"You  need  not  do  that."     Isabel  spoke  with  her  eyes 


46  Greatheart 

still  fixed  upon  the  girlish  face.  "Keep  them  if  you  like 
them !  I  shall  never  wear  them  again.  They  tell  me — they 
tell  me — I  am  a  widow. " 

"Miss  Isabel  darlint!"  Biddy  spoke  sibilantly  from  the 
background.  "Don't  be  talking  to  the  young  lady  of 
such  things!  Won't  ye  sit  down  then,  miss?  And  maybe 
I  can  get  ye  a  cup  o'  tay. " 

"Ah,  do,  Biddy!"  Scott  put  in  his  quiet  vrord.  "There 
is  no  tea  like  yours.  Isabel,  Miss  Bathurst  is  a  keen 
dancer.  She  and  Eustace  have  been  most  energetic.  It 
was  a  pity  you  couldn't  come  down  and  see  the  fun. " 

"Oh!  Did  you  enjoy  it?"  Isabel  still  looked  into  the 
brown,  piquant  face  as  though  loth  to  turn  her  eyes  away. 

"I  loved  it,  "  said  Dinah. 

"Was  Eustace  kind  to  you?" 

"  Oh,  most  kind.  "     Dinah  spoke  with  candid  enthusiasm. 

"I  am  glad  of  that, "  Isabel's  voice  held  a  note  of  satis- 
faction. "But  I  should  think  everyone  is  kind  to  you, 
child,"  she  said,  with  her  faint,  glimmering  smile.  "How 
beautiful  you  are!" 

"Me!"  Dinah  opened  her  eyes  in  genuine  astonishment. 
"Oh  you  wouldn't  think  so  if  you  saw  me  in  my  ordinary 
dress,"  she  said.  "I'm  nothing  at  all  to  look  at  really. 
It's  just  a  case  of  'Fine  feathers, ' — nothing  else. " 

"My  dear, "  Isabel  said,  "I  am  not  looking  at  your  dress. 
I  seldom  notice  outer  things.  I  am  looking  through  your 
eyes  into  your  soul.  It  is  that  that  makes  you  beau- 
tiful. I  think  it  is  the  loveliest  thing  that  I  have  ever 
seen. " 

"Oh,  you  wouldn't  say  so  if  you  knew  me! "  cried  Dinah, 
conscience-stricken.  "I  have  horrid  thoughts  often — 
very  often." 

The  dark,  watching  eyes  still  smiled  in  their  far-off  way. 
" I  should  like  to  know  you,  dear  child,"  Isabel  said.  "You 
have  helped  me — you  could  help  me  in  a  way  that  probably 


Cinderella  47 

you  will  never  understand.  Won't  you  sit  down?  I  will 
put  my  letters  away,  and  we  will  talk. " 

She  began  to  collect  the  litter  before  her,  laying  the 
letters  together  one  by  one  with  reverent  care. 

"Can  I  help?"  asked  Dinah  timidly. 

But  she  shook  her  head.  "No,  child,  your  hands  must 
not  touch  them.  They  are  the  ashes  of  my  life. " 

An  open  box  stood  on  the  table.  She  drew  it  to  her, 
and  laid  the  letters  within  it.  Then  she  rose,  and  drew  her 
guest  to  a  lounge. 

"We  will  sit  here,"  she  said.  "Stumpy,  why  don't  you 
smoke?  Ah,  the  music  has  stopped  at  last.  It  has  been 
racking  me  all  the  evening.  Yes,  you  love  it,  of  course. 
That  is  natural.  I  loved  it  once.  It  is  always  sweet  to 
those  who  dance.  But  to  those  who  sit  out— those  who  sit 
out —  "  Her  voice  sank,  and  she  said  no  more. 

Dinah's  hand  slipped  softly  into  hers.  "I  like  sitting 
out  too  sometimes,"  she  said.  "At  least  I  like  it  now." 

Isabel's  eyes  were  upon  her  again.  They  looked  at  her 
with  a  kind  of  incredulous  wonder.  After  a  moment  she 
sighed. 

"You  would  not  like  it  for  long,  child.  I  am  a  prisoner. 
I  sit  in  chains  while  the  world  goes  by.  They  are  all  hurry- 
ing forward  so  eager  to  get  on.  But  there  is  never  any 
going  on  for  me.  I  sit  and  watch — and  watch. " 

"Surely  we  must  all  go  forward  somehow,"  said  Dinah 
shyly. 

"Surely,"  said  Scott. 

But  Isabel  only  shook  her  head  with  dreary  conviction. 
"Not  the  prisoners,"  she  said.  "They  die  by  the  way- 
side." 

There  fell  a  brief  silence,  then  impetuously  Dinah  spoke, 
urged  by  the  fulness  of  her  heart.  "  I  think  we  all  feel  like 
that  sometimes.  I  know  at  home  it's  just  like  being  in  a 
cage.  Nothing  ever  happens  worth  mentioning.  And  then 


48  Greatheart 

quite  suddenly  the  door  is  opened  and  out  we  come.  That's 
partly  why  I  am  enjoying  everything  so  much,"  she  ex- 
plained. "But  it  won't  be  a  bit  nice  going  back. " 

"What  about  your  mother?"  said  Scott. 

Dinah's  bright  face  clouded  again.  "Yes,  of  course, 
there's  Mother,  "  she  agreed. 

She  looked  across  at  Scott  as  if  she  would  say  more; 
but  he  passed  quietly  on.  "Where  is  your  home,  Miss 
Bathurst?" 

"Right  in  the  very  heart  of  the  Midlands.  It  is  pretty 
country,  but  oh,  so  dull.  The  de  Vignes  are  the  rich  people 
of  the  place.  They  belong  to  the  County.  We  don't, " 
said  Dinah,  with  a  sigh. 

Scott  laughed,  and  she  looked  momentarily  hurt. 

"I  don't  see  what  there  is  funny  in  that.  The  County 
people  and  the  shop  people  are  the  only  ones  that  get  any 
fun.  It's  horrid  to  be  between  the  two. " 

"Forgive  me!"  Scott  said.  "I  quite  see  your  point. 
But  if  you  only  knew  it,  the  people  who  call  themselves 
County  are  often  the  dullest  of  the  dull. " 

"You  say  that  because  you  belong  to  them,  I  expect," 
retorted  Dinah.  "But  if  you  were  me,  and  lived  always 
under  the  shadow  of  the  de  Vignes,  you  wouldn't  think  it 
a  bit  funny. " 

"Who  are  the  de  Vignes?"  asked  Isabel  suddenly. 

Dinah  turned  to  her.  "We  are  staying  here  with  them, 
Billy  and  I.  My  father  persuaded  the  Colonel  to  have  us. 
He  knew  how  dreadfully  we  wanted  to  go.  The  Colonel 
is  rather  good-natured  over  some  things,  and  he  and  Dad  are 
friends.  But  I  don't  think  Lady  Grace  wanted  us  much. 
You  see,  she  and  Rose  are  so  very  smart. " 

"I  see,"  said  Scott. 

"Rose  has  been  presented  at  Court,"  pursued  Dinah. 
"They  always  go  up  for  the  season.  They  have  a  house  in 
town.  We  always  say  that  Rose  is  waiting  to  marry  a 


Cinderella  49 

marquis ;  but  he  hasn't  turned  up  yet.  You  see,  she  really  is 
much  too  beautiful  to  marry  an  ordinary  person,  isn't  she? " 

"Oh,  much,"  said  Scott. 

Dinah  heaved  another  little  sigh;  then  suddenly  she 
laughed.  "But  your  brother  has  promised  to  help  me 
with  my  skating  to-morrow  anyhow,"  she  said.  "So  she 
won't  have  him  all  the  time." 

"Perhaps  the  marquis  will  come  along  to-morrow," 
suggested  Scott. 

"  I  wish  he  would, "  said  Dinah,  with  fervour. 

4 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  BROKEN  SPELL 

BIDDY  was  in  the  act  of  handing  round  the  tea 
when  there  came  the  sound  of  a  step  outside,  and  an 
impatient  hand  thrust  open  the  door. 

"Hullo,  Stumpy!"  said  a  voice.  "Are  you  here?  What 
have  you  done  with  Miss  Bathurst?  She's  engaged  to  me 
for  the  next  dance."  Eustace  entered  with  the  words, 
but  stopped  short  on  the  threshold.  "Hullo!  You  -are 
here!  I  thought  you  had  given  me  the  slip. " 

Dinah  looked  up  at  him  with  merry  eyes.  "So  I  have — 
practically.  I  am  on  my  way  to  bed." 

"Oh,  nonsense!"  he  said,  with  his  easy  imperiousness. 
"I  can't  spare  you  yet.  I  must  have  one  more  dance  just 
to  soothe  my  nerves.  I've  been  dancing  with  a  faultless 
automaton  who  didn't  understand  me  in  the  least.  Now  I 
want  the  real  thing  again. " 

"Have  some  tea!"  said  Scott. 

"Thanks!"  Sir  Eustace  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the 
table,  facing  his  sister  and  Dinah.  "You're  not  going  to 
let  me  down,  now  are  you?"  he  said.  "I'm  counting  on 
that  dance,  and  I  haven't  enjoyed  myself  at  all  since  I  saw 
you  last.  That  girl  is  machine-made.  There  isn't  a  flaw 
in  her.  She's  been  turned  out  of  a  mould ;  I'm  certain  of  it. 
Miss  Bathurst,  why  are  you  laughing?" 

"Because  I'm  pleased,"  said  Dinah. 

"Pleased?  I  thought  you'd  be  sorry  for  me.  You're 

50 


The  Broken  Spell  51 

going  to  take  pity  on  me  anyway,  I  hope.  The  beautiful 
automaton  has  gone  back  to  her  band-box  for  the  night, 
so  we  can  enjoy  ourselves  quite  unhindered.  Is  that  for 
me?  Thanks,  Biddy!  I'm  needing  refreshment  badly." 

"You  would  have  preferred  coffee,  "  observed  Isabel. 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  spoken  since  his  entrance. 
He  gave  her  a  keen,  intent  look.  "Oh,  this'll  do,  thanks, " 
he  said.  "It  is  all  nectar  to-night.  Why  haven't  you 
been  down  to  the  ballroom,  Isabel?  You  would  have 
enjoyed  it. " 

Her  lips  twisted  a  little.  "I  have  been  listening  to  the 
music  upstairs,  "  she  said. 

"You  ought  to  have  come  down,"  he  said  imperiously. 
"I  shall  expect  you  next  time."  His  hand  inadvertently 
touched  the  box  on  the  table  and  he  looked  sharply  down- 
wards. ' '  Here,  Biddy !  Take  this  thing  away ! "  he  ordered 
with  a  frown. 

Isabel  leaned  swiftly  forward.  "Give  it  to  me!"  she 
said. 

His  hand  closed  upon  it.     "No.     Let  Biddy  take  it!" 

"Let  me!"  said  Dinah  suddenly,  and  sprang  to  her  feet. 

She  took  it  from  him  before  he  had  time  to  protest,  and 
gave  it  forthwith  into  Isabel's  outstretched  hands. 

Eustace  took  up  his  cup  in  heavy  silence,  and  drained  it. 

Then  he  rose.     "Come  along,  Miss  Bathurst!" 

But  Dinah  remained  seated.  "I  am  very  sorry,"  she 
said.  "But  I  can't." 

"Oh,  nonsense ! "  He  smiled  very  suddenly  and  winningly 
upon  her.  "Surely  you  won't  disappoint  me!" 

She  shook  her  head.  Her  eyes  were  wistful.  "I'm 
disappointing  myself  quite  as  much.  But  I  mustn't.  The 
Colonel  has  gone  to  bed  with  dyspepsia,  and  Lady  Grace 
and  Rose  have  gone  too  by  this  time.  I  can't  come  down 
again. " 

"Nonsense! "  he  said  again.     "You  want  to.     You  know 


52  Greatheart 

you  do.  No  one  pays  any  attention  to  Mrs.  Grundy  out 
here.  She  simply  doesn't  exist.  Scott  can  come  and 
play  propriety.  He's  staid  enough  to  chaperon  a  whole 
girls'  school." 

"Thanks,  old  chap,"  said  Scott.  "But  I'm  not  coming 
down  again,  either. " 

Eustace  looked  over  his  head.  "Then  you  must,  Isabel. 
Come  along!  Just  to  oblige  Miss  Bathurst!  It  won't 
hurt  you  to  sit  in  a  safe  corner  for  one  dance. " 

Isabel  looked  up  at  him  with  a  startled  expression,  as  of 
one  trapped.  "Oh,  don't  ask  me ! "  she  said.  " I  couldn't ! " 

' '  No,  don't ! "  said  Dinah.  ' '  It  isn't  fair  to  bother  anyone 
else  on  my  account !  I'm  dreadfully  sorry  to  have  to  refuse. 
But — in  any  case — I  ought  not  to  come." 

"What  of  that?"  said  Eustace  lightly.  "Do  you  always 
do  what  you  ought?  What  a  dull  programme!" 

Dinah  flushed.  "Dull  but  respectable,"  she  said,  with  a 
touch  of  spirit. 

He  laughed.  "But  I'm  not  asking  you  to  do  anything 
very  outrageous,  and  I  shouldn't  ask  it  at  all  if  I  didn't 
know  you  wanted  to  do  it.  Besides,  you  promised.  It's 
generally  considered  the  respectable  thing  to  do  to  keep  one's 
promises." 

That  reached  Dinah.  She  wavered  perceptibly.  "Lady 
Grace  will  be  so  vexed, "  she  murmured. 

He  snapped  his  fingers  in  careless  disdain. 

She  turned  appealingly  to  Scott.  "I  think  I  might  go — 
just  for  one  dance,  don't  you?" 

Scott's  pale  eyes  met  hers  with  steady  comradeship. 
"I  think  I  shouldn't,  "  he  said. 

Eustace  turned  as  if  he  had  not  heard  and  strolled  to  the 
door.  He  opened  it,  and  at  once  the  room  was  rilled  with 
the  plaintive  alluring  strains  of  waltz-music.  He  stood 
and  looked  back.  Dinah  met  the  look,  and  suddenly  she 
was  on  her  feet. 


The  Broken  Spell  53 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  her  with  a  smile  half-mocking, 
half-persuasive.  The  music  swung  on  with  a  subtle 
enchantment.  Dinah  uttered  a  little  quivering  laugh, 
and  went  to  him. 

In  another  moment  the  door  closed,  and  they  stood,  alone 
in  the  passage. 

"I  knew  you  wanted  to,"  said  Eustace,  smiling  down 
into  her  eyes  with  the  arrogance  of  the  conqueror. 

Dinah  was  panting  a  little  as  one  who  had  suffered  a 
sudden  strain.  "Of  course  I  wanted  to,"  she  returned. 
"But  that  doesn't  make  it  right. " 

He  pressed  her  hand  to  his  heart  for  a  moment,  and  she 
caught  again  a  glimpse  of  that  fire  in  his  eyes  that  had  so 
thrilled  her.  She  could  not  meet  it.  She  stood  in  palpi- 
tating silence. 

"Where  is  the  use  of  fighting  against  fate?"  he  asked  her 
softly.  "A  gift  of  the  gods  is  never  offered  twice." 

She  did  not  understand  him,  but  her  heart  was  beating 
wildly,  tumultuously,  and  an  inner  voice  urged  her  to  be 
gone. 

She  slipped  her  hand  free.  "Aren't  we — wasting 
time?"  she  whispered. 

He  laughed  again  in  that  subtle,  half-mocking  note,  but 
he  met  her  wish  instantly.  They  went  downstairs  to  the 
salon. 

There  were  not  so  many  dancers  now.  The  de  Vignes 
had  evidently  retired.  One  rapid  glance  told  Dinah  this, 
and  she  dismissed  them  therewith  from  her  mind.  The 
rhythm  and  lure  of  the  music  caught  her.  She  slid  into 
the  dance  with  delicious  abandonment.  The  wonder  and 
romance  of  it  had  got  into  her  veins.  No  stolen  pleasure 
was  ever  more  keenly  enjoyed  than  was  that  last  perfect 
dance.  Her  very  blood  was  a-fire  with  the  strange,  intoxi- 
cating joy  of  life.  She  wanted  to  go  on  for  ever. 

But  it  ended  at  length.     She  came  to  earth  after  her 


54  Greatheart 

rapturous  flight,  and  found  herself  standing  with  her  partner 
in  a  curtained  recess  of  the  ballroom  from  which  a  glass 
door  led  on  to  the  verandah  that  ran  round  the  hotel. 

"Just  a  glimpse  of  the  moonlight  on  the  mountains,  "  he 
said,  "before  we  say  good-night!" 

She  went  with  him  without  a  moment's  thought.  She 
was  as  one  caught  in  the  meshes  of  a  great  enchantment. 
He  opened  the  door,  and  she  passed  through  on  to  the 
verandah. 

The  music  throbbed  into  silence  behind  them.  Before 
them  lay  a  fairy-world  of  dazzling  silver  and  deepest,  dark- 
est sapphire.  The  mountains  stood  in  solemn  grandeur, 
domes  of  white  mystery.  The  great  vault  of  the  sky  was 
alight  with  stars,  and  a  wonderful  moon  hung  like  a  silver 
shield  almost  in  the  zenith. 

"How — beautiful!"  breathed  Dinah. 

The  air  was  crystal  clear,  cold  but  not  piercing.  The 
absolute  stillness  held  her  spell-bound. 

"  It  is  like  a  dream-world, "  she  whispered. 

"In  which  you  reign  supreme,  "  he  murmured  back. 

She  glanced  at  him  with  uncomprehending  eyes.  Her 
veins  were  still  throbbing  with  the  ecstasy  of  the  dance. 

"Oh,  how  I  wish  I  had  wings!"  she  suddenly  said.  "To 
swim  through  that  glorious  ether  right  above  the  mountain- 
tops  as  one  swims  through  the  sea!  Don't  you  think  flying 
must  be  very  like  swimming?" 

"With  variations,"  said  Eustace. 

His  eyes  dwelt  upon  her.  They  were  fierily  blue  in  that 
great  flood  of  moonlight.  His  hand  still  rested  upon  her 
waist. 

"But  what  a  mistake  to  want  the  impossible!"  he  said, 
after  a  moment. 

"  I  always  do, "  said  Dinah.  "At  least, "  she  glanced  up 
at  him  again,  "I  always  have — until  to-night." 

"And  to-night?"  he  questioned,  dropping  his  voice. 


The  Broken  Spell  55 

"Oh,  I  am  quite  happy  to-night, "  she  said,  with  a  little 
laugh,  "even  without  the  wings.  If  I  hadn't  thought  of 
them,  I  should  have  nothing  left  to  wish  for." 

"I  wish  I  could  say  the  same,  "  said  Sir  Eustace,  with  the 
faint  mocking  smile  at  the  comers  of  his  lips. 

"What  can  you  want  more?"  asked  Dinah  innocently. 

He  leaned  to  her.  ' '  A  big  thing — a  small  thing !  Would 
you  give  it  to  me,  my  elf  of  the  mountains,  if  I  dared  to  tell 
you  what  it  was?" 

Her  eyes  fluttered  and  fell  before  the  flaming  ardour  of 
his.  "I — I  don't  know,  "  she  faltered,  in  sudden  confusion. 
"I  expect  so — if  I  could. " 

His  arm  slipped  round  her.  "Would  you?"  he  whis- 
pered. "Would  you?" 

She  gave  a  little  gasp,  caught  unawares  like  a  butterfly 
on  the  wing.  All  the  magic  of  the  night  seemed  suddenly 
to  be  concentrated  upon  her  like  fairy  batteries.  Her  first 
feeling  was  dismay,  followed  instantly  by  the  wonder  if  she 
could  be  dreaming.  And  then,  as  she  felt  the  drawing  of  his 
arm,  something  vehement,  something  almost  fierce,  awoke 
within  her,  clamouring  wildly  for  freedom. 

It  was  a  blind  instinct,  but  she  obeyed  it  without  ques- 
tion. She  had  no  choice. 

" Oh  no ! "  she  cried.  "Oh  no !  I  couldn't ! "  and  wrested 
herself  from  him  in  a  panic. 

He  let  her  go,  and  she  heard  him  laugh  as  she  broke  away. 
But  she  did  not  wait  for  more.  To  linger  was  unthinkable. 
Urged  by  that  imperative,  inner  prompting  she  turned  and 
fled,  not  pausing  for  a  moment's  thought. 

The  glass  door  closed  behind  her.  She  burst  impetuously 
into  the  deserted  ballroom.  And  here,  on  the  point  of 
entering  the  small  recess  from  which  she  was  escaping,  she 
came  suddenly  face  to  face  with  Scott. 

So  headlong  was  her  flight  that  she  actually  ran  into  him. 
He  put  out  a  steadying  hand. 


56  Greatheart 

"  I  was  just  coming  to  look  for  you, "  he  said  in  his  quiet, 
composed  fashion. 

She  stopped  unwillingly.  "Oh,  were  you?  How  kind! 
I — I  think  I  ought  to  go  up  now.  It's  getting  late,  isn't  it? 
Good-night!" 

He  did  not  seek  to  detain  her.  She  wondered  with  a 
burning  sense  of  shame  what  he  could  have  thought  of  her 
wild  rush.  But  she  was  too  agitated  to  attempt  any  excuse, 
too  agitated  to  check  her  retreat.  Without  a  backward 
glance  she  hastened  away  like  Cinderella  overtaken  by 
fate;  the  spell  was  broken,  the  glamour  gone. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MR.  GREATHEART 

IT  was  a  very  meek  and  subdued  Dinah  who  made  her 
appearance  in  the  salle-a-manger  on  the  following 
morning. 

She  and  Billy  were  generally  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and 
the  room  usually  rang  with  their  young  laughter.  But  that 
morning  even  Billy  was  decorously  quiet,  and  his  sister 
scarcely  spoke  or  raised  her  eyes. 

Colonel  de  Vigne,  white-moustached  and  martial,  sat  at 
the  table  with  them,  but  neither  Lady  Grace  nor  Rose  was 
present.  The  Colonel's  face  was  stern.  He  occupied  him- 
self with  letters  with  scarcely  so  much  as  a  glance  for  the 
boy  and  girl  on  either  side  of  him. 

There  was  a  letter  by  Dinah's  plate  also,  but  she  had 
not  opened  it.  Her  downcast  face  was  very  pale.  She 
ate  but  little,  and  that  little  only  when  urged  thereto  by 
Billy,  whose  appetite  was  rampant  notwithstanding  the 
decorum  of  his  behaviour. 

Scott,  breakfasting  with  his  brother  at  a  table  only  a  few 
yards  distant,  observed  the  trio  with  unobtrusive  interest. 

He  had  made  acquaintance  with  the  Colonel  on  the 
previous  evening,  and  after  a  time  the  latter  caught  his  eye 
and  threw  him  a  brief  greeting.  Most  people  were  polite  to 
Scott.  But  the  Colonel's  whole  aspect  was  forbidding  that 
morning,  and  his  courtesy  went  no  further. 

Sir  Eustace  did  not  display  the  smallest  interest  in  any- 

57 


58  Greatheart 

one.  His  black  brows  were  drawn,  and  he  looked  even  more 
haughtily  unapproachable  than  the  Colonel. 

He  conversed  with  his  brother  in  low  tones  on  the  sub- 
ject of  the  morning's  mail  which  lay  at  Scott's  elbow  and 
which  he  was  investigating  while  he  ate.  Now  and  then 
he  gave  concise  and  somewhat  peremptory  instructions, 
which  Scott  jotted  down  in  a  note-book  with  business-like 
rapidity.  No  casual  observer  would  have  taken  them 
for  brothers  that  morning.  They  were  employer  and 
secretary. 

Only  when  the  last  letter  had  been  discussed  and  laid 
aside  did  the  elder  abruptly  abandon  his  aloof  attitude  to 
ask  a  question  upon  a  more  intimate  matter. 

"Did  Isabel  go  without  a  sleeping-draught  last  night?" 

Scott  shook  his  head. 

Eustace's  frown  became  even  more  pronounced.  "Did 
Biddy  administer  it  on  her  own?" 

"No.  I  authorized  it."  Scott's  voice  was  low.  He 
met  his  brother's  look  with  level  directness. 

Eustace  leaned  towards  him  across  the  table.  "I  won't 
have  it,  Stumpy, "  he  said  very  decidedly.  "I  told  you  so 
yesterday." 

"I  know."  Very  steadily  Scott  made  answer.  "But 
last  night  there  was  no  alternative.  It  is  impossible  to  do 
the  thing  suddenly.  She  has  hardly  got  over  the  journey 
yet." 

"Rubbish!"  said  Eustace  curtly. 

Scott  slightly  raised  his  shoulders,  and  said  no  more. 

"It  comes  to  this,"  Eustace  said,  speaking  with  stern 
insistence.  "If  you  can't — or  won't — assert  your  author- 
ity, I  shall  assert  mine.  It  is  all  a  question  of  influence. " 

"Or  forcible  persuasion,"  said  Scott,  with  a  touch  of 
irony. 

"Very  well.  Call  it  that!  It  is  in  a  good  cause.  If 
you  haven't  the  strength  of  mind,  I  have;  and  I  shall 


Mr.  Greatheart  59 

exercise  it.  These  drugs  must  be  taken  away.  Can't  you 
see  it's  the  only  possible  thing  to  do?" 

"Not  yet,"  Scott  said.  He  was  still  facing  his  brother's 
grim  regard  very  gravely  and  unflinchingly.  "I  tell  you, 
man,  it  is  too  soon.  She  is  better  than  she  used  to  be. 
She  is  calmer,  more  reasonable.  We  must  do  the  thing 
gradually,  if  at  all.  To  interfere  forcibly  would  do  infinitely 
more  harm  than  good.  I  know  what  I  am  saying.  I  know 
her  far  better  than  you  do  now.  I  am  in  closer  touch  with 
her.  You  are  out  of  sympathy.  You  only  startle  her  when 
you  try  to  persuade  her  to  anything.  You  must  leave  her 
to  me.  I  understand  her.  I  know  how  to  help  her." 

"You  haven't  achieved  much  in  the  last  seven  years," 
Eustace  observed. 

"But  I  have  achieved  something."  Scott's  answer  was 
wholly  free  from  resentment.  He  spoke  with  quiet  con- 
fidence. "  I  know  it's  a  slow  process.  But  she  is  moving  in 
the  right  direction.  Give  her  time,  old  chap!  I  firmly 
believe  that  she  will  come  back  to  us  by  slow  degrees. " 

"Damnably  slow,"  commented  Eustace.  "You're  so 
infernally  deliberate  always.  You  talk  as  if  it  were  your 
life-work." 

Scott's  eyes  shone  with  a  whimsical  light.  "I  begin  to 
think  it  is,"  he  said.  "Have  you  finished?  Suppose  we 
go. "  He  gathered  up  the  sheaf  of  papers  at  his  elbow  and 
rose.  "  I  will  attend  to  these  at  once. " 

Eustace  strode  down  the  long  room  looking  neither  to 
right  nor  left,  moving  with  a  free,  British  arrogance  that 
served  to  emphasize  somewhat  cruelly  the  meagreness  and 
infirmity  of  the  man  behind  him.  Yet  it  was  upon  the 
latter's  slight,  halting  figure  that  Dinah's  eyes  dwelt  till  it 
finally  limped  out  of  sight,  and  in  her  look  were  wonder 
and  a  vagrant  admiration.  There  was  an  undeniable 
attraction  about  Scott  that  affected  her  very  curiously,  but 
wherein  it  lay  she  could  not  possibly  have  said.  She  was 


60  Greatheart 

furious  when  a  murmured  comment  and  laugh  from  some 
girls  at  the  next  table  reached  her. 

"What  a  dear  little  lap-dog!"  said  one. 

"Yes,  I're  been  wanting  to  pat  its  head  for  a  long  time, " 
said  another. 

"Warranted  not  to  bite,"  laughed  a  third.  "Can  it 
really  be  full-grown?" 

"Oh,  no  doubt,  my  dear!  Look  at  its  pretty  little 
whiskers!  It's  just  a  toy,  you  know,  nothing  but  a  toy." 

Dinah  turned  in  her  chair,  and  gazed  scathingly  upon  the 
group  of  critics.  Then,  aware  of  the  Colonel's  eyes  upon 
her,  she  turned  back  and  gave  him  a  swift  look  of  apology. 

He  shook  his  head  at  her  repressively,  his  whole  air 
magisterial  and  condemnatory.  "You  may  go  if  you 
wish,"  he  said,  in  the  tone  of  one  dismissing  an  offender. 
"But  be  good  enough  to  bear  in  mind  what  I  have  said 
to  you!" 

Billy  leapt  to  his  feet.  "Can  I  go  too,  sir?"  he  asked 
eagerly. 

The  Colonel  signified  majestic  assent.  His  mood  was 
very  far  from  genial  that  morning,  and  he  had  not  the 
smallest  desire  to  detain  either  of  them.  In  fact,  if  he 
could  have  dismissed  his  two  young  charges  altogether,  he 
would  have  done  so  with  alacrity.  But  that  unfortunately 
was  out  of  the  question — unless  by  their  behaviour  they 
provoked  him  to  fulfil  the  very  definite  threat  that  he  had 
pronounced  to  Dinah  in  the  privacy  of  his  wife's  room  an 
hour  before. 

He  was  very  seriously  displeased  with  Dinah,  more 
displeased  than  he  had  been  with  anyone  since  his  soldiering 
days,  and  he  had  expressed  himself  with  corresponding 
severity.  If  she  could  not  conduct  herself  becomingly  and 
obediently,  he  would  take  them  both  straight  home  again 
and  thus  put  a  summary  end  to  temptation.  His  own 
daughter  had  never  given  him  any  cause  for  uneasiness,  and 


Mr.  Greatheart  61 

he  did  not  see  why  he  should  be  burdened  with  the  esca- 
pades of  anyone  else's  troublesome  offspring.  It  was  too 
much  to  expect  at  his  time  of  life. 

So  a  severe  reprimand  had  been  Dinah's  portion,  to  which 
she,  very  meek  and  crestfallen,  shorn  of  all  the  previous 
evening's  glories,  had  listened  with  a  humility  that  had 
slightly  mollified  her  judge  though  he  had  been  careful  not 
to  let  her  know  it.  She  had  been  wild  and  flighty,  and  he 
was  determined  that  she  should  feel  the  rod  of  discipline 
pretty  smartly. 

But  when  he  finally  rose  from  the  table  and  stalked  out  of 
the  room,  it  was  a  little  disconcerting  to  find  the  culprit 
awaiting  him  in  the  vestibule  to  slip  a  shy  hand  inside  his 
arm  and  whisper,  "Do  forgive  me !  I'm  so  sorry. " 

He  looked  down  into  her  quivering  face,  saw  the  pleading 
eyes  swimming  in  tears,  and  abruptly  found  that  his  dis- 
pleasure had  evaporated  so  completely  that  he  could  not 
even  pretend  to  be  angry  any  longer.  He  had  never  taken 
much  notice  of  Dinah  before,  treating  her,  as  did  his  wife 
and  daughter,  as  a  mere  child  and  of  no  account.  But 
now  he  suddenly  realized  that  she  was  an  engaging  minx 
after  all. 

"Ashamed  of  yourself?"  he  asked  gruffly,  his  white 
moustache  twitching  a  little. 

Dinah  nodded  mutely. 

"Then  don't  do  it  again!"  he  said,  and  grasped  the  little 
brown  hand  for  a  moment  with  quite  unwonted  kindness. 

It  was  a  tacit  forgiveness,  and  as  such  Dinah  treated  it. 
She  smiled  thankfully  through  her  tears,  and  slipped  away 
to  recover  her  composure. 

Nearly  an  hour  later,  Scott,  having  finished  his  letters, 
came  upon  her  sitting  somewhat  disconsolately  in  the  ve- 
randah. He  paused  on  his  way  out. 

"Good  morning,  Miss  Bathurst!  Aren't  you  going  to 
skate  this  morning?" 


62  Greatheart 

She  turned  to  him  with  a  little  movement  of  pleasure. 
"Good  morning,  Mr.  Studley!  I  have  been  waiting  here 
for  you.  I  have  brought  down  your  sister's  trinkets.  Here 
they  are!"  She  held  out  a  neat  little  paper  parcel  to  him. 
"Please  will  you  thank  her  again  for  them  very,  very  much  ? 
I  do  hope  she  didn't  think  me  very  rude  last  night, — though 
I'm  afraid  I  was." 

Her  look  was  wistful.  He  took  the  packet  from  her 
with  a  smile. 

"Of  course  she  didn't.  She  was  delighted  with  you. 
When  are  you  coming  to  see  her  again?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Dinah. 

"Come  to  tea!"  suggested  Scott. 

Dinah  hesitated,  flushing. 

"You've  something  else  to  do?"  he  asked  in  his  cheery 
way.  "Well,  come  another  time  if  it  won't  bore  you!" 

"Oh,  it  isn't  that!"  said  Dinah,  and  her  flush  deepened. 
"I — I  would  love  to  come.  Only — "  She  glanced 
round  at  an  elderly  couple  who  had  just  come  out,  and 
stopped. 

"I'm  going  down  to  the  village  with  my  letters,"  said 
Scott.  "  Will  you  come  too  ?" 

She  welcomed  the  idea.  "Oh  yes,  I  should  like  to. 
It's  such  a  glorious  morning  again,  isn't  it?  It's  a  shame 
not  to  go  out. " 

"Sure  you're  not  wanting    to    skate?"  he  questioned. 

"Yes,  quite  sure.  I — I'm  rather  tired  this  morning,  but 
a  walk  will  do  me  good." 

They  passed  the  rink  without  pausing,  though  Scott 
glanced  across  to  see  his  brother  skimming  along  in  the 
distance  with  a  red-clad  figure  beside  him.  He  made 
no  comment  upon  the  sight,  and  Dinah  was  silent  also. 
Her  gay  animation  that  morning  was  wholly  a  minus 
quantity. 

They  went  on  down  the  hill,  talking  but  little.     Speech 


Mr.  Greatheart  63 

in  Scott's  society  was  never  a  necessity.  His  silences  were 
so  obviously  friendly.  He  had  a  shrewd  suspicion  on  this 
occasion  that  the  girl  beside  him  had  something  to  say, 
and  he  waited  for  it  with  a  courteous  patience,  abstaining 
from  interrupting  her  very  evident  preoccupation. 

They  walked  between  fields  of  snow,  all  glistening  in 
the  sunshine.  The  blue  of  the  sky  was  no  longer  sapphire 
but  glorious  turquoise.  The  very  air  sparkled,  diamond- 
clear  in  the  crystal  splendour  of  the  day. 

Suddenly  Dinah  spoke.  "I  suppose  one  always  feels 
horrid  the  next  morning.  " 

"Are  you  feeling  the  reaction? "  asked  Scott. 

"Oh,  it  isn't  only  that,  I'm  feeling — ashamed,"  said 
Dinah,  blushing  very  deeply. 

He  did  not  look  at  her.  "I  don't  see  why,"  he  said 
gently,  after  a  moment. 

"Oh,  but  you  do!"  she  said  impatiently.  "At  least  you 
can  if  you  try.  You  knew  I  was  wrong  to  go  down  again 
for  that  last  dance,  just  as  well  as  I  did.  Why,  you  tried 
to  stop  me!" 

"Which  was  very  presumptuous  of  me,  "  said  Scott. 

"No,  it  wasn't.  It  was  kind.  And  I — I  was  a  perfect 
pig  not  to  listen.  I  want  you  to  know  that,  Mr.  Studley. 
I  want  you  to  know  that  I'm  very,  very  sorry  I  didn't 
listen.  "  She  spoke  with  trembling  vehemence. 

Scott  smiled  a  little.  He  was  looking  tired  that  morn- 
ing. There  were  weary  lines  about  his  eyes.  "I  don't 
know  why  you  should  be  so  very  penitent,  Miss  Bathurst, " 
he  said.  "It  was  quite  a  small  thing." 

"It  got  me  into  bad  trouble  anyway,"  said  Dinah. 
"I've  had  a  tremendous  wigging  from  the  Colonel  this 
morning,  and  if — if  I  ever  do  anything  so  bad  again,  we're 
to  be  sent  home." 

"I  call  that  unreasonable,"  said  Scott  with  decision. 
"  It  was  not  such  a  serious  matter  as  all  that.  If  you  want 


64  Greatheart 

my  opinion,  I  think  it  was  a  mistake — a  small  mistake — on 
your  part;  nothing  more. " 

"But  that  wasn't  all,"  said  Dinah,  looking  away  from 
him  and  quickening  her  pace,  "I — I  have  offended  your 
brother  too." 

"Good  heavens!"  said  Scott.  "And  is  that  serious 
too?" 

"Don't  laugh!"  protested  Dinah.  "Of  course  it's 
serious.  He — he  won't  even  look  at  me  this  morning." 
The  sound  of  tears  came  suddenly  into  her  voice.  "I  was 
waiting  for  you  on  the  verandah  a  little  while  ago,  and — 
and  he  went  by  with  Rose  and  never  glanced  my  way.  All 
because — because — oh,  I  am  a  little  fool!"  she  declared, 
with  an  angry  stamp  of  the  foot  as  she  walked. 

"He's  the  fool ! "  said  Scott  rather  shortly.  "I  shouldn't 
bother  myself  over  that  if  I  were  you." 

"I  can't  help  it,"  said  Dinah,  her  voice  squeaking  on 
a  note  half -indignant,  half -piteous.  "I — I  behaved  so 
idiotically,  just  like  a  raw  schoolgirl.  And  I  hate  myself 
for  it  now!" 

Scott  looked  at  her  for  the  first  time  since  the  beginning 
of  her  confidences.  "Do  you  know,  Miss  Bathurst, "  he 
said,  "I  have  a  suspicion  that  you  are  much  too  hard  on 
yourself.  Of  course  I  don't  know  what  happened,  but  I  do 
know  that  my  brother  is  much  more  likely  to  have  been 
in  the  wrong  than  you  were.  The  best  thing  you  can  do  is 
simply  to  dismiss  the  matter  from  your  mind.  Behave 
as  if  nothing  had  happened !  Cut  him  next  time !  It's  far 
the  best  way  of  treating  him." 

Dinah  smiled  woefully.  "And  he  will  spread  himself  at 
Rose's  feet  like  all  the  rest,  and  never  come  near  me  again. " 

Scott  frowned  a  little.  "Miss  de  Vigne  won't  have  the 
monopoly,  I  can  assure  you. " 

"She  will,"  protested  Dinah.  "She  knows  how  to  flirt 
without  being  caught.  I  don't. " 


Mr.  Greatheart  65 

"Thank  the  gods  for  that!"  said  Scott  with  fervour. 
"So  he  tried  to  flirt,  did  he?  And  you  objected.  Was  that 
it?" 

"Something  like  that,"  murmured  Dinah,  with  hot 
face  averted. 

"Then  in  heaven's  name,  continue  to  object!"  he  said, 
with  unusual  vehemence.  "You  did  the  right  thing,  child. 
Don't  be  drawn  into  doing  what  others  do!  Strike  out  a 
straight  line  for  yourself,  and  stick  to  it!  Above  all,  don't 
be  ashamed  of  sticking  to  it!  No  woman  was  ever  yet 
the  better  or  the  more  attractive  for  cultivating  her  talent 
for  flirting.  Don't  you  know  that  it  is  your  very  genuine- 
ness and  straightforwardness  that  is  your  charm?" 

Dinah  looked  at  him  in  sheer  surprise.  "I  haven't  got 
any  charm,"  she  said.  "That's  just  the  trouble.  It  was 
only  my  dancing  that  made  your  brother  fancy  I  had  last 
night." 

Scott's  frown  deepened,  became  almost  formidable,  then 
suddenly  vanished  in  a  laugh.  "That's  just  your  point  of 
view,"  he  said.  "Perhaps  it's  a  pity  to  open  your  eyes. 
But  whatever  you  do,  don't  try  to  humour  my  brother's 
whims!  It  would  be  very  bad  for  him,  and  you  certainly 
wouldn't  gain  anything  by  it.  Put  up  with  me  for  a  change, 
and  come  to  tea  instead!" 

A  flash  of  gaiety  gleamed  for  a  moment  in  Dinah's  eyes. 
It  was  the  first  he  had  seen  that  morning.  "I'll  come, "  she 
said,  "if  Lady  Grace  will  let  me.  But  I  think  I  had  better 
ask  first,  don't  you?" 

"Perhaps  it  would  be  safer,"  agreed  Scott.  "Tell  her 
my  sister  is  an  invalid!  I  don't  think  she  will  object.  I 
made  the  acquaintance  of  the  doughty  Colonel  last  night. " 

"You  know  he  isn't  a  bad  sort,"  said  Dinah.     "He  is 

much  nicer  than  Lady  Grace  or  Rose.     Of  course  he's  rather 

stuck  up,  but  that's  only  natural.     He's  lived  so  long  in 

India,  and  now  he's  a  J.  P.  into  the  bargain.     It  would  be 

s 


66  Greatheart 

rather  wonderful  if  he  were  anything  else.  Billy  can't  bear 
him,  but  then  Billy's  a  boy. " 

"I  like  Billy,"  observed  Scott. 

"  Yes,  and  Billy  likes  you,"  she  answered  warmly.  "He's 
quite  an  intelligent  boy. " 

"Evidently,"  agreed  Scott,  with  a  smile.  "Now  here  is 
the  village!  Where  do  I  post  my  letters?" 

Dinah  directed  him  with  cheerful  alacrity.  She  was 
feeling  much  happier;  her  tottering  self-respect  was  almost 
restored. 

"He  is  a  dear  little  man ! "  she  said  to  herself  with  enthu- 
siasm, as  she  waited  for  him  to  purchase  some  stamps. 

"You've  done  me  no  end  of  good,  "  she  said  frankly  to  the 
man  himself  as  they  turned  back. 

"I  am  very  pleased  to  hear  it,"  said  Scott.  "And  it  is 
extremely  kind  of  you  to  say  so. " 

"It's  the  truth, "  she  maintained.  "And,  oh,  you  haven't 
been  smoking  all  this  time.  Don't  you  want  to  ? " 

He  stopped  at  once,  and  took  out  his  cigarette-case. 
"  Now  you  mention  it,  I  think  I  do.  But  I  mustn't  dawdle. 
I  have  got  to  get  back  to  Isabel." 

Dinah  waited  while  the  cigarette  kindled.  Then,  with 
a  touch  of  shyness,  she  spoke. 

"Mr.  Studley,  has — has  your  sister  been  an  invalid  for 
long?" 

He  looked  at  her.     "Do  you  want  to  hear  about  her?" 

"Yes,  please,"  said  Dinah.     "If  you  don't  mind." 

He  began  to  walk  on.  It  was  evident  that  the  hill  was 
something  of  a  difficulty  to  him.  He  moved  slowly,  and  his 
limp  became  more  pronounced.  "No,  I  should  like  to  tell 
you  about  her,"  he  said.  "You  were  so  good  yesterday, 
and  I  hadn't  prepared  you  in  the  least.  I  hope  it  didn't 
give  you  a  shock. " 

' '  Of  course  it  didn't, "  Dinah  answered.  ' '  I'm  not  such  a 
donkey  as  that.  I  was  only  very,  very  sorry. " 


Mr.  Greatheart  67 

"Thank  you,"  he  said,  as  if  she  had  expressed  direct 
sympathy  with  himself.  "  It's  hard  to  believe,  isn't  it,  that 
seven  years  ago  she  was — even  lovelier  than  the  beautiful 
Miss  de  Vigne,  only  in  a  very  different  style?" 

"Not  in  the  least,"  Dinah  assured  him.  "She  is  far 
lovelier  than  Rose  now.  She  must  have  been — beautiful. " 

"She  was,"  said  Scott.  "She  was  like  Eustace,  except 
that  she  was  always  much  softer  than  he  is.  You  would 
scarcely  believe  either  that  she  is  three  years  younger  than 
he  is,  would  you?" 

"I  certainly  shouldn't,"  Dinah  admitted.  "But  then, 
she  must  have  come  through  years  of  suffering. " 

"Yes,"  Scott  spoke  with  slight  constraint,  as  though 
he  could  not  bear  to  dwell  on  the  subject.  "She  was  a  girl 
of  intensely  vivid  feelings,  very  passionate  and  warm- 
hearted. She  and  Eustace  were  inseparable  in  the  old  days. 
They  did  everything  together.  He  thought  more  of  her 
than  of  anyone  else  in  the  world.  He  does  still. " 

"  He  wasn't  very  nice  to  her  last  night,  "  Dinah  ventured. 

"No.  He  is  often  like  that,  and  she  is  afraid  of  him. 
But  the  reason  of  it  is  that  he  feels  her  trouble  so  horribly, 
and  whenever  he  sees  her  in  that  mood  it  hurts  him  intoler- 
ably. He  is  quite  a  good  chap  underneath,  Miss  Bathurst. 
Like  Isabel,  he  feels  certain  things  intensely.  Of  course  he 
is  five  years  older  than  I  am,  and  we  have  never  been  pals 
in  the  sense  that  he  and  she  were  pals.  I  was  always  a  slow- 
goer,  and  they  went  like  the  wind.  But  I  know  him.  I 
know  what  his  feelings  are,  and  what  this  thing  has  been  to 
him.  And  though  I  am  now  much  more  to  Isabel  than  he 
will  probably  ever  be  again,  he  has  never  resented  it  or 
been  anything  but  generous  and  willing  to  give  place  to  me. 
That,  you  know,  indicates  greatness.  With  all  his  faults, 
he  is  great." 

"He  shouldn't  make  her  afraid  of  him,  "  Dinah  said. 

"  I  am  afraid  that  is  inevitable.     He  is  strong,  and  she  has 


68  Greatheart 

lost  her  strength.  Her  marriage  too  alienated  them  in  the 
first  place.  She  had  refused  so  many  before  Basil  Everard 
came  along,  and  I  suppose  he  had  begun  to  think  that  she 
was  not  the  marrying  sort.  But  Everard  caught  her  almost 
in  a  day.  They  met  in  India.  Eustace  and  she  were  tour- 
ing there  one  winter.  Everard  was  a  senior  subaltern  in  a 
Ghurka  regiment — an  awfully  taking  chap  evidently.  They 
practically  fell  in  love  with  one  another  at  sight.  Poor  old 
Eustace!"  Scott  paused,  faintly  smiling.  "He  meant  her 
to  marry  well  if  she  married  at  all,  and  Basil  was  no  more 
than  the  son  of  a  country  parson  without  a  penny  to  his 
name.  However,  the  thing  was  past  remedy.  I  saw  that 
when  they  came  home,  and  Isabel  told  me  about  it.  I  was 
at  Oxford  then.  She  came  down  alone  for  a  night,  and 
begged  me  to  try  and  talk  Eustace  over.  It  was  the 
beginning  of  a  barrier  between  them  even  then.  It  has 
grown  high  since.  Eustace  is  a  difficult  man  to  move,  you 
know.  I  did  my  level  best  with  him,  but  I  wasn't  very 
successful.  In  the  end  of  course  the  inevitable  happened. 
Isabel  lost  patience  and  broke  away.  She  was  on  her  way 
out  again  before  either  of  us  knew.  Eustace — of  course 
Eustace  was  furious. "  Scott  paused  again. 

Dinah's  silence  denoted  keen  interest.  Her  expression 
was  absorbed. 

He  went  on,  the  touch  of  constraint  again  apparent  in 
his  manner.  It  was  evident  that  the  narration  stirred  up 
deep  feelings.  "We  three  had  always  hung  together. 
The  family  tie  meant  a  good  deal  to  us  for  the  simple  reason 
that  we  were  practically  the  only  Studleys  left.  My  father 
had  died  six  years  before,  my  mother  at  my  birth.  Eus- 
tace was  the  head  of  the  family,  and  he  and  Isabel  had  been 
all  in  all  to  each  other.  He  felt  her  going  more  than  I  can 
possibly  tell  you,  and  scarcely  a  week  after  the  news  came 
he  got  his  things  together  and  went  off  in  the  yacht  to 
South  America  to  get  over  it  by  himself.  I  stayed  on  at 


Mr.  Greatheart  69 

Oxford,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  to  go  out  to  her  in  the 
vacation.  A  few  days  after  his  going,  I  had  a  cable  to  say 
they  were  married.  A  week  after  that,  there  came  another 
cable  to  say  that  Everard  was  dead." 

' '  Oh ! ' '  Dinah  drew  a  short,  hard  breath.  ' '  Poor  Isabel ! ' ' 
she  whispered. 

"Yes."  Scott's  pale  eyes  were  gazing  straight  ahead. 
"He  was  killed  two  days  after  the  marriage.  They  had 
gone  up  to  the  Hills,  to  a  place  he  knew  of  right  in  the  wilds 
on  the  side  of  a  mountain,  and  pitched  camp  there.  There 
were  only  themselves,  a  handful  of  Pathan  coolies  with 
mules,  and  a  shikari.  The  day  after  they  got  there,  he  took 
her  up  the  mountain  to  show  her  some  of  the  beauties  of  the 
place,  and  they  lunched  on  a  ledge  about  a  couple  of  hundred 
feet  above  a  great  lonely  tarn.  It  was  a  wonderful  place 
but  very  savage,  horribly  desolate.  They  rested  after  the 
meal,  and  then,  Isabel  being  still  tired,  he  left  her  to  bask  in 
the  sunshine  while  he  went  a  little  further.  He  told  her  to 
wait  for  him.  He  was  only  going  round  the  corner.  There 
was  a  great  bastion  of  rock  jutting  on  to  the  ledge.  He 
wanted  to  have  a  look  round  the  other  side  of  it.  He  went, 
— and  he  never  came  back. " 

"He  fell?"  Dinah  turned  a  shocked  face  upon  him. 
"Oh,  how  dreadful!" 

"He  must  have  fallen.  The  ledge  dwindled  on  the  other 
side  of  the  rock  to  little  more  than  four  feet  in  width  for 
about  six  yards.  There  was  a  sheer  drop  below  into  the 
pool.  A  man  of  steady  nerve,  accustomed  to  mountaineer- 
ing, would  make  nothing  of  it;  and,  from  what  Isabel  has 
told  me  of  him,  I  gather  he  was  that  sort  of  man.  But  on 
that  particular  afternoon  something  must  have  happened. 
Perhaps  his  happiness  had  unsteadied  him  a  bit,  for  they 
were  absolutely  happy  together.  Or  it  may  have  been  the 
heat.  Anyhow  he  fell,  he  must  have  fallen.  And  no  one 
ever  knew  any  more  than  that. " 


70  Greatheart 

"How  dreadful!"  Dinah  whispered  again.  "And  she 
was  left — all  alone?" 

"Quite  alone  except  for  the  natives,  and  they  didn't 
find  her  till  the  day  after.  She  was  pacing  up  and  down 
the  ledge  then,  up  and  down,  up  and  down  eternally,  and 
she  refused — flatly  refused — to  leave  it  till  he  should  come 
back.  She  had  spent  the  whole  night  there  alone,  waiting, 
getting  more  and  more  distraught,  and  they  could  do 
nothing  with  her.  They  were  afraid  of  her.  Never  from 
that  day  to  this  has  she  admitted  for  a  moment  that  he 
must  have  been  killed,  though  in  her  heart  she  knows  it, 
poor  girl,  just  as  she  knew  it  from  the  very  beginning. " 

"But  what  happened?"  breathed  Dinah.  "What  did 
they  do?  They  couldn't  leave  her  there." 

"They  didn't  know  what  to  do.  The  shikari  was  the 
only  one  with  any  ideas  among  them,  and  he  wasn't  especi- 
ally brilliant.  But  after  another  day  and  night  he  hit  on 
the  notion  of  sending  one  of  the  coolies  back  with  the  news 
while  he  and  the  other  men  waited  and  watched.  They 
kept  her  supplied  with  food.  She  must  have  eaten  almost 
mechanically.  But  she  never  left  that  ledge.  And  yet — 
and  yet — she  was  kept  from  taking  the  one  step  that 
would  have  ended  it  all.  I  sometimes  wonder  if  it  wouldn't 
have  been  better — more  merciful — "  He  broke  off. 

"Perhaps  God  was  watching  her,"  murmured  Dinah 
shyly. 

"Yes,  I  tell  myself  that.  But  even  so,  I  can't  help 
wondering  sometimes."  Scott's  voice  was  very  sad.  "She 
was  left  so  terribly  desolate, "  he  said.  "Those  letters  that 
you  saw  last  night  are  all  she  has  of  him.  He  has  gone,  and 
taken  the  mainspring  of  her  life  with  him.  I  hate  to  think 
of  what  followed.  They  sent  up  a  doctor  from  the  nearest 
station,  and  she  was  taken  away, — taken  by  force.  When 
I  got  to  her  three  weeks  later,  she  was  mad,  raving  mad,  with 
brain  fever.  I  had  the  old  nurse  Biddy  with  me.  We 


Mr.  Greatheart  7* 

nursed  her  between  us.  We  brought  her  back  to  what  she 
is  now.  Some  day,  please  God,  we  shall  get  her  quite  back 
again;  but  whether  it  will  be  for  her  happiness  He  only 
knows." 

Scott  ceased  to  speak.  His  brows  were  drawn  as  the 
brows  of  a  man  in  pain. 

Dinah's  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  "Oh,  thank  you  for 
telling  me !  Thank  you ! "  she  murmured.  "  I  do  hope  you 
will  get  her  quite  back,  as  you  say. " 

He  looked  at  her,  saw  her  tears,  and  put  out  a  gentle 
hand  that  rested  for  a  moment  upon  her  arm.  "  I  am  afraid 
I  have  made  you  unhappy.  Forgive  me!  You  are  so 
sympathetic,  and  I  have  taken  advantage  of  it.  I  think  we 
shall  get  her  back.  She  is  coming  very,  very  gradually. 
She  has  never  before  taken  such  an  interest  in  anyone  as 
she  took  in  you  last  night.  She  was  talking  of  you  again 
this  morning.  She  has  taken  a  fancy  to  you.  I  hope  you 
don't  mind. " 

"Mind!"  Dinah  choked  a  little  and  smiled  a  quivering 
smile.  -"I  am  proud — very  proud.  I  only  wish  I  deserved 
it.  What — what  made  you  bring  her  here?" 

"That  was  my  brother's  idea.  Since  we  brought  her 
home  she  has  never  been  away,  except  once  on  the  yacht; 
and  then  she  was  so  miserable  that  we  were  afraid  to  keep 
her  there.  But  he  thought  a  thorough  change — mountain 
air — might  do  her  good.  The  doctor  was  not  against  it. 
So  we  came." 

"And  do  you  never  leave  her? "  questioned  Dinah. 

"Practically  never.  Ever  since  that  awful  time  in  India 
she  has  been  very  dependent  upon  me.  Biddy  of  course  is 
quite  indispensable  to  her.  And  I  am  nearly  so. " 

"You  have  given  yourself  up  to  her  in  fact?"  Quick 
admiration  was  in  Dinah's  tone. 

He  smiled.  "It  didn't  mean  so  much  to  me  as  it  would 
have  meant  to  some  men,  Miss  Bathurst, — as  it  would  have 


72  Greatheart 

meant  to  Eustace,  for  instance.  I'm  not  much  of  a  man. 
To  give  up  my  college  career  and  settle  down  at  home 
wasn't  such  a  great  wrench.  I'm  not  especially  clever. 
I  act  as  my  brother's  secretary,  and  we  find  it  answers  very 
well.  He  is  a  rich  man,  and  there  is  a  good  deal  of  business 
in  connection  with  the  estate,  and  so  on.  I  am  a  poor  man. 
By  my  father's  will  nearly  everything  was  left  to  him  and  to 
Isabel.  I  was  something  of  an  offence  to  him,  being  the 
cause  of  my  mother's  death  and  misshapen  into  the 
bargain." 

"What  a  wicked  shame!"  broke  from  Dinah. 

"No,  no!  Some  people  are  like  that.  They  are  made 
so.  I  don't  feel  in  the  least  bitter  about  it.  He  left  me 
enough  to  live  upon,  though  as  a  matter  of  fact  neither  he 
nor  anyone  else  expected  me  to  grow  up  at  the  time  that 
will  was  made.  It  was  solely  due  to  Biddy's  devotion,  I 
believe,  that  I  managed  to  do  so."  He  uttered  his  quiet 
laugh.  "I  am  talking  rather  much  about  myself.  It's 
kind  of  you  not  to  be  bored." 

"Bored!"  echoed  Dinah,  with  shining  eyes.  "I  think 
you  are  simply  wonderful.  I  hope — I  hope  Sir  Eustace 
realizes  it. " 

"I  hope  he  does,"  agreed  Scott  with  a  twinkle.  "He 
has  ample  opportunities  for  doing  so.  Ah,  there  he  is !  He 
is  actually  skating  alone.  What  has  become  of  the  beauti- 
ful Miss  de  Vigne,  I  wonder." 

They  walked  on,  nearing  the  rink.  "I'm  not  going  to  be 
horrid  about  her  any  more,"  said  Dinah  suddenly.  "You 
must  have  thought  me  a  perfect  little  cat.  And  so  I  was!" 

"Oh,  please!"  protested  Scott.     "I  didn't!" 

She  laughed.  "That  just  shows  how  kind  you  are.  It 
doesn't  make  me  feel  the  least  bit  better.  I  was  a  cat. 
There!  Oh,  your  brother  is  calling  you.  I  think  I'll  go." 

She  blushed  very  deeply  and  quickened  her  steps.  Sir 
Eustace  had  come  to  the  edge  of  the  rink. 


Mr.  Greatheart  73 

' '  Stumpy ! "  he  called.     ' '  Stumpy ! ' ' 

"How  dare  he  call  you  that?"  said  Dinah.  "I  can't 
think  how  you  can  put  up  with  it. " 

Scott  raised  his  shoulders  slightly,  philosophically. 
"Doesn't  the  cap  fit?"  he  said. 

"Not  a  bit,"  Dinah  declared  with  emphasis.  "I  have 
another  name  for  you  that  suits  you  far  better. " 

"Oh!  What  is  that?"  he  looked  at  her  with  smiling 
curiosity. 

Dinah's  blush  deepened  from  carmine  to  crimson.  "I 
call  you — Mr.  Greatheart, "  she  said,  her  voice  very  low. 
"Because  you  help  everybody." 

A  gleam  of  surprise  crossed  his  face.  He  flushed  also; 
but  she  saw  that  though  embarrassed,  he  was  not  dis- 
pleased." 

He  put  a  hand  to  his  cap.  "  Thank  you,  Miss  Bathurst, " 
he  said  simply,  and  turned  without  further  words  to  answer 
his  brother's  summons. 

Dinah  walked  quickly  on.  That  stroll  with  Scott  had 
quite  lifted  her  out  of  her  depression. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE  RUNAWAY  COLT 

"TT  really  is  very  tiresome,"   complained  Lady  Grace. 

1  "I  knew  that  child  was  going  to  be  a  nuisance  from 
the  very  outset. " 

"What  has  she  done  now?"  growled  the  Colonel. 

He  was  lounging  in  the  easiest  chair  in  the  room,  smoking 
an  excellent  cigar,  preparatory  to  indulging  in  his  after- 
noon nap.  His  wife  reclined  upon  a  sofa  with  a  French 
novel  which  she  had  not  begun  to  read.  Through  the 
great  windows  that  opened  on  to  the  balcony  the  sunshine 
streamed  in  a  flood  of  golden  light.  Rose  was  seated  on  the 
balcony  enjoying  the  warmth.  Lady  Grace's  eyes  rested 
upon  her  slim  figure  in  its  scarlet  coat  as  she  made  reply. 

"These  people — these  Studleys — won't  leave  her  alone. 
Or  else  she  runs  after  them.  I  can't  quite  make  out  which. 
Probably  the  latter.  Anyhow  the  sister — who,  I  believe 
is  what  is  termed  slightly  mental — has  asked  her  to  go  to 
tea  in  their  private  sitting-room.  I  have  told  her  she  must 
decline. " 

"Quite  right, "  said  the  Colonel.     "What  did  she  say?" 

Lady  Grace  uttered  a  little  laugh.  "Oh,  she  was  very 
ridiculous  and  high-flown,  as  you  may  imagine.  But,  as  I 
told  her,  I  am  directly  responsible  to  her  mother  for  any 
friendships  she  may  make  out  here,  and  I  am  not  disposed  to 
take  any  risks.  We  all  know  what  Mrs.  Bathurst  can  be 
like  if  she  considers  herself  an  injured  party. " 

74 


The  Runaway  Colt  75 

"A  perfect  she-dragon!"  agreed  the  Colonel.  "I  fancy 
the  child  herself  is  still  kept  in  order  with  the  rod.  Why, 
even  Bathurst — great  hulking  ox — is  afraid  of  her.  Billy 
isn't,  but  then  Billy  apparently  can  do  no  wrong. " 

"She  certainly  loves  no  one  else,"  said  Lady  Grace. 
"I  never  met  anyone  with  such  an  absolutely  vixenish  and 
uncontrolled  temper.  I  am  sorry  for  Dinah.  I  have 
always  pitied  her,  for  she  certainly  works  hard,  and  gets 
little  praise  for  it.  But  at  the  same  time,  I  can't  let  her 
run  wild  now  she  is  off  the  rein  for  a  little.  It  wouldn't  be 
right.  And  these  people  are  total  strangers." 

"  I  believe  they  are  of  very  good  family,"  said  the  Colo- 
nel. "The  title  is  an  old  one,  and  Sir  Eustace  is 
evidently  a  rich  man.  I  had  the  opportunity  for  a 
little  talk  with  the  brother  yesterday  evening.  A  very 
courteous  little  chap — quite  unusually  so.  I  think  we 
may  regard  them  as  quite  passable. "  His  eyes  also 
wandered  to  the  graceful,  lounging  figure  on  the  balcony. 
"At  the  same  time  I  shouldn't  let  Dinah  accept  hospi- 
tality from  them,  anyhow  at  this  stage.  She  is  full 
young.  She  must  be  content  to  stay  in  the  background — 
at  least  for  the  present. " 

"Just  what  I  say,"  said  Lady  Grace.  "Of  course  if 
the  younger  brother  should  take  a  fancy  to  her — and  he 
certainly  seems  to  be  attracted — it  might  be  a  very  excellent 
thing  for  her.  Her  mother  can't  hope  to  keep  her  as  maid  of 
all  work  for  ever.  But  I  can't  have  her  pushing  herself 
forward.  I  was  very  glad  to  hear  you  reprimand  her  so 
severely  this  morning. " 

"She  deserved  it,"  said  the  Colonel  judicially.  "But 
at  the  same  time  if  there  is  any  chance  of  what  you  suggest 
coming  to  pass,  I  have  no  wish  to  stand  in  the  child's  way. 
I  have  a  fancy  that  she  will  find  the  bondage  at  home  con- 
siderably more  irksome  after  this  taste  of  freedom.  It 
might,  as  you  say,  be  a  good  thing  for  her  if  the  little  chap 


76  Greatheart 

did  fall  in  love  with  her.  Her  mother  can't  expect  much  of 
a  match  for  her. " 

"Oh,  if  that  really  happened,  her  mother  would  be 
charmed, "  said  Lady  Grace.  "She  is  a  queer,  ill-balanced 
creature,  and  I  don't  believe  she  has  ever  had  the  smallest 
affection  for  her.  She  would  be  delighted  to  get  her  off  her 
hands,  I  should  say.  But  things  mustn't  move  too  quickly, 
or  they  may  go  in  the  wrong  direction."  Again  her  eyes 
sought  her  daughter's  graceful  outline.  "You  say  Sir 
Eustace  is  rich?"  she  asked,  after  a  moment. 

"Extremely  rich,  I  should  say.  He  has  his  own  yacht, 
a  house  in  town  as  well  as  a  large  place  in  the  country,  and 
he  will  probably  get  a  seat  in  Parliament  at  the  next  elec- 
tion. I'm  not  greatly  taken  with  the  man  myself, "  declared 
Colonel  de  Vigne.  "He  is  too  overbearing.  At  the  same 
time,"  again  his  eyes  followed  his  wife's,  "he  would  no 
doubt  be  a  considerable  catch." 

"I  don't  mean  Dinah  to  have  Sir  Eustace,"  said  Lady 
Grace  very  decidedly.  "It  would  be  most  unsuitable. 
Yes,  what  is  it? "  as  a  low  knock  came  at  the  door.  "Come 
in!" 

It  opened,  and  Dinah,  looking  flushed  and  rather  uncer- 
tain, made  her  appearance. 

"  I  wish  you  would  have  the  consideration  not  to  disturb 
us  at  this  hour,  my  dear  Dinah,  "  said  Lady  Grace  peevishly. 
"What  is  it  you  want  now?" 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  Dinah  meekly.  "But  I  heard  your 
voices,  so  I  knew  you  weren't  asleep.  I  just  came  in  to  say 
that  Billy  and  I  are  going  luging  if  you  don't  mind. " 

"What  next?"  said  Lady  Grace,  still  fretful.  "Of 
course  I  don't  mind  so  long  as  you  don't  get  up  to  mischief. " 

"Dinah,  come  here!"  said  the  Colonel  suddenly. 

Dinah,  on  the  point  of  beating  a  swift  retreat,  stood 
still  with  obvious  reluctance. 

"Come  here!"  he  repeated. 


The  Runaway  Colt  77 

She  went  to  him  hesitatingly. 

He  reached  up  a  hand  and  grasped  her  by  the  arm. 
"Were  you  eavesdropping  just  now?"  he  demanded. 

Dinah  started  as  if  stung.  "I — I — of  course  I  wasn't!" 
she  declared,  with  vehemence.  "How  can  you  suggest 
such  a  thing?" 

"Quite  sure?"  said  the  Colonel,  still  holding  her. 

She  wrenched  herself  from  him  in  a  sudden  fury.  "  Colo- 
nel de  Vigne,  you — you  insult  me !  I  am  not  the  sort  that 
listens  outside  closed  doors.  How  dare  you?  How  dare 
you?" 

She  stamped  her  foot  with  the  words,  gazing  down  at 
him  with  blazing  eyes. 

The  Colonel  stiffened  slightly,  but  he  kept  his  temper. 
"If  I  have  done  you  an  injustice,  I  apologize,"  he  said. 
"You  may  go." 

And  Dinah  went  like  a  whirlwind,  banging  the  door 
behind  her. 

"Well,  really!"  protested  Lady  Grace  in  genuine  dis- 
pleasure. 

Her  husband  smiled  somewhat  grimly.  "A  vixen's 
daughter,  my  dear!  What  can  you  expect?" 

"She  behaves  like  a  fishwife's  daughter,"  said  Lady 
Grace.  "And  if  she  wasn't  actually  eavesdropping  I  am 
convinced  she  heard  what  I  said." 

"So  am  I,"  said  the  Colonel  drily.  "I  was  about  to 
tax  her  with  it.  Hence  her  masterly  retreat.  But  she  was 
not  deliberately  eavesdropping  or  she  would  not  have  given 
herself  away  so  openly.  I  quite  agree  with  you,  my  dear. 
A  match  between  her  and  Sir  Eustace  would  not  be  suitable. 
And  I  also  think  Sir  Eustace  would  be  the  first  to  see  it. 
Anyhow,  I  shall  take  an  early  opportunity  of  letting  him 
know  that  her  birth  is  by  no  means  a  high  one,  and  that 
her  presence  here  is  simply  due  to  our  kindness.  At  the 
same  time,  should  the  rather  ludicrous  little  younger  brother 


78  Greatheart 

take  it  into  his  head  to  follow  her  up,  so  far  as  family  goes 
he  is  of  course  too  good  for  her,  but  I  am  sorry  for  the  child 
and  I  shall  put  no  obstacle  in  the  way." 

"All  the  same  she  shall  not  go  to  tea  there  unless  Rose 
is  invited  too,"  said  Lady  Grace  firmly. 

"There,"  said  the  Colonel  pompously,  "I  think  that  you 
are  right. " 

Lady  Grace  simpered  a  little,  and  opened  her  novel. 
"  It  really  wouldn't  surprise  me  to  find  that  she  is  a  born 
fortune-hunter,"  she  said.  "I  am  certain  the  mother  is 
avaricious." 

"The  mother,"  said  Colonel  de  Vigne  with  the  delibera- 
tion of  one  arrived  at  an  unalterable  decision,  "is  the  most 
disagreeable,  vulgar,  and  wholly  objectionable  person  that 
I  have  ever  met." 

"Oh,  quite,"  said  Lady  Grace.  "If  she  were  in  our  set, 
she  would  be  altogether  intolerable.  But — thank  heaven — 
she  is  not!  Now,  dear,  if  you  don't  mind,  I  am  going  to 
read  myself  to  sleep.  I  have  promised  Rose  to  go  to  the  ice 
carnival  to-night,  and  I  need  a  little  relaxation  first." 

"I  suppose  Dinah  is  going?"  said  the  Colonel. 

"Oh,  yes.  But  she  is  nothing  of  a  skater. "  Lady  Grace 
suddenly  broke  into  a  little  laugh.  "I  wonder  if  the 
redoubtable  Mrs.  Bathurst  does  really  beat  her  when  she  is 
naughty.  It  would  be  excellent  treatment  for  her,  you 
know." 

"I  haven't  a  doubt  of  it,"  said  the  Colonel.  "She  is  ab- 
solutely under  her  mother's  control.  That  great  raw-boned 
woman  would  have  a  heavy  hand  too,  I'll  be  bound." 

"Oh,  there  is  no  doubt  Dinah  stands  very  much  in  awe 
of  her.  I  never  knew  she  had  any  will  of  her  own  till  she 
came  here.  I  always  took  her  for  the  meekest  little  crea- 
ture imaginable. " 

"There  is  a  good  deal  more  in  Miss  Dinah  than  jumps  to 
the  eye,"  said  the  Colonel.  "In  fact,  if  you  ask  me,  I 


The  Runaway  Colt  79 

should  say  she  is  something  of  a  dark  horse.  She  is  just 
beginning  to  feel  her  feet  and  she'll  surprise  us  all  one 
of  these  days  by  turning  into  a  runaway  colt." 

"Not,  I  do  hope,  while  she  is  in  my  charge,"  said  Lady 
Grace. 

"We  will  hope  not,"  agreed  the  Colonel.  "But  all  the 
same,  I  rather  think  that  her  mother  will  find  her  consider- 
ably less  tame  and  tractable  when  she  sees  her  again  than 
she  has  ever  been  before.  Liberty,  you  know,  is  a  danger- 
ous joy  for  the  young. " 

"Then  we  must  be  more  strict  with  her  ourselves,"  said 
Lady  Grace. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  HOUSE  OF  BONDAGE 

~^\INAH  ran  swiftly  down  the  corridor  to  her  own  room. 
•*— '  As  a  matter  of  fact,  she  had  intruded  upon  the  Colo- 
nel and  Lady  Grace  in  the  secret  hope  of  finding  a  propitious 
moment  for  once  again  pressing  her  request  to  be  allowed  to 
accept  Scott's  invitation  to  tea.  Her  failure  to  do  so  added 
fuel  to  the  flame,  arousing  in  her  an  almost  irresistible 
impulse  to  rebel  openly. 

The  fear  of  consequences  alone  restrained  her,  for  to  be 
escorted  home  in  disgrace  after  only  a  week  in  this  Alpine 
paradise  was  more  than  she  could  face.  All  her  life  the 
dread  of  her  mother's  wrath  had  overhung  Dinah  like  a 
cloud,  sometimes  near,  sometimes  distant,  but  always 
present.  She  had  been  brought  up  to  fear  her  from  her 
cradle.  All  through  her  childhood  her  punishments  had 
been  bitterly  severe.  She  winced  still  at  the  bare  thought 
of  them;  and  she  was  as  fully  convinced  as  was  Lady  Grace 
that  her  mother  had  never  really  loved  her.  To  come  under 
the  ban  of  her  displeasure  meant  days  of  harsh  treatment, 
nor,  now  that  her  childhood  was  over,  had  the  discipline 
been  relaxed.  She  never  attempted  to  rebel  openly. 
Her  fear  of  her  mother  had  become  an  integral  part  of 
herself.  Her  spirit  shrank  before  her  fits  of  violence.  But 
for  her  father  and  Billy  she  sometimes  thought  that  home 
would  be  an  impossible  place. 

But  her  affection  for  her  father  was  of  a  very  intense. 

80 


The  House  of  Bondage  81 

order.  Lazy,  self-indulgent,  supremely  easy-going,  yet 
possessed  of  a  fascination  that  had  held  her  from  babyhood, 
such  was  Guy  Bathurst.  Despised  at  least  outwardly  by 
his  wife  and  adored  by  his  daughter,  he  went  his  indifferent 
way,  enjoying  life  as  he  found  it  and  quite  impervious  to 
snubs. 

"I  never  interfere  with  your  mother,"  was  a  very  fre- 
quent sentence  on  his  lips,  and  by  that  axiom  he  ruled  his 
life,  looking  negligently  on  while  Dinah  was  bent  without 
mercy  to  the  wheel  of  tyranny. 

He  was  fond  of  Dinah, — her  devotion  to  him  made  that 
inevitable — but  he  never  obtruded  his  fondness  to  the  point 
of  interference  on  her  behalf ;  for  both  of  them  were  secretly 
aware  that  the  harshness  meted  out  to  her  had  much  of  its 
being  in  a  deep,  unreasoning  jealousy  of  that  very  selfish 
fondness.  They  kept  their  affection  as  it  were  for  strictly 
private  consumption,  and  it  was  that  alone  that  made  life 
at  home  tolerable  to  Dinah. 

For  upon  one  point  her  father  was  insistent.  He  would 
not  part  with  her  unless  she  married.  He  did  not  object  to 
her  working  at  home  for  his  comfort,  but  the  idea  of  her 
working  elsewhere  and  making  her  living  was  one  which  he 
refused  to  consider.  With  rare  self-assertion,  he  would  not 
hear  of  it,  and  when  he  really  asserted  himself,  which  was 
seldom,  his  wife  was  wont  to  yield,  albeit  ungraciously 
enough,  to  his  behest. 

Besides  Dinah  was  undoubtedly  useful  at  home,  and 
would  certainly  grow  out  of  hand  if  she  left  her. 

Not  very  willingly  had  she  agreed  to  let  her  go  upon  this 
Alpine  jaunt  with  the  de  Vignes,  but  Billy  had  been  so  keen, 
and  the  invitation  would  scarcely  have  been  extended  to 
him  alone. 

The  whole  idea  had  originated  between  the  heads  of  the 
two  families,  riding  home  together  after  a  day's  hunting. 
Dinah  had  chanced  to  come  into  the  conversation,  and  the 

6 


82  Greatheart 

Colonel,  comparing  her  lot  with  that  of  his  own  daughter 
and  being  stirred  to  pity,  had  suggested  that  the  two  child- 
ren might  like  to  join  them  on  their  forthcoming  expedition. 
Bathurst  had  at  once  accepted  the  tentative  proposal,  and 
had  blurted  forth  the  whole  matter  to  his  assembled  family 
on  his  return  with  the  result  that  Billy's  instant  and  eager 
delight  had  made  it  virtually  impossible  for  his  mother  to 
oppose  the  suggestion. 

Dinah  had  been  delighted  too,  almost  deliriously  so; 
but  she  had  kept  her  pleasure  to  herself,  not  daring  to  show 
it  in  her  mother's  presence  till  the  actual  arrival  of  the 
last  day.  Then  indeed  she  had  lost  her  head,  had  sung 
and  danced  and  made  merry,  till  some  trifling  accident  had 
provoked  her  mother's  untempered  wrath  and  a  sound 
boxing  of  ears  had  quite  sobered  her  enthusiasm.  She  had 
fared  forth  finally  upon  the  adventure  with  tearful  eyes  and 
drooping  heart,  her  mother's  frigid  kiss  of  farewell  hurting 
her  more  poignantly  than  her  drastic  punishment  of  an  hour 
before.  For  Dinah  was  intensely  sensitive,  keenly  suscepti- 
ble to  rebuke  and  coldness,  and  her  warm  heart  shrank 
from  unkindness  with  a  shrinking  that  was  actual  pain. 

She  knew  that  the  little  social  world  of  Perrythorpe 
looked  down  upon  her  mother  though  not  actually  refusing 
to  associate  with  her.  Bathurst  had  married  a  circus-girl 
in  his  green  Oxford  days;  so  the  story  went, — a  hard, 
handsome  woman  older  than  himself,  and  fiercely,  intensely 
ambitious.  Lack  of  funds  had  prevented  her  climbing  very 
high,  and  bitterly  she  resented  her  failure.  He  had  never 
done  a  day's  work  in  his  life,  but,  unlike  his  wife,  he  had 
plenty  of  friends.  He  was  well-bred,  a  good  rider,  a  straight 
shot,  and  an  entertaining  guest.  He  knew  everyone  within 
a  radius  of  twenty  miles,  and  was  upon  terms  of  easy  inti- 
macy with  the  de  Vignes  and  many  others  who  received 
him  with  pleasure,  but  very  seldom  went  out  of  their  way 
to  encounter  his  wife. 


The  House  of  Bondage  83 

Dinah  shrewdly  suspected  that  this  fact  accounted  for 
much  of  the  bitterness  of  her  mother's  outlook.  Her 
ambition  had  apparently  died  of  starvation  long  since,  but 
her  resentment  remained.  Her  hand  was  against  practically 
all  the  world,  including  her  daughter,  whose  fairy-like  dainti- 
ness and  piquancy  were  so  obvious  a  contrast  to  the  some- 
what coarse  and  flashy  beauty  that  had  once  been  hers. 
For  all  that  Dinah  inherited  from  her  mother  was  her 
gipsy  darkness.  Mrs.  Bathurst  was  not  flashy  now,  and 
any  attempt  at  personal  adornment  on  Dinah's  part  was 
always  very  sternly  repressed.  She  had  met  and  writhed 
under  the  eye  of  scornful  criticism  too  often,  and  she  dis- 
trusted her  own  taste.  She  was  determined  that  Dinah 
should  never  be  subjected  to  the  same  humiliation. 

She  humiliated  her  often  enough  herself.  It  was  the 
only  means  she  knew  of  asserting  her  authority;  for  she  had 
no  intention  of  ever  being  the  object  of  her  daughter's 
contempt.  She  was  harsh  to  the  point  of  brutality,  so  that 
the  girl's  heart  was  wont  to  quicken  apprehensively  when- 
ever she  heard  her  step.  She  scolded,  she  punished,  she 
coerced.  But  from  an  outsider,  the  bare  thought  of  a  snub 
was  unendurable,  and  the  possibility  that  Dinah  might  by 
any  means  lay  herself  open  to  one  was  enough  to  bring 
down  the  vials  of  wrath  upon  her  head.  Dinah  remembered 
still  with  shivering  vividness  the  whipping  she  had  received 
on  one  occasion  for  demeaning  herself  by  running  after  the 
de  Vignes's  carriage  to  deliver  a  message.  Her  mother's 
whippings  had  always  been  very  terrible,  vindictively 
thorough.  The  indignity  of  them  lashed  her  soul  even  more 
cruelly  than  the  unsparing  thong  her  body.  Because  of 
them  she  went  in  daily  trepidation,  submissive  almost  to  the 
point  of  abjectness,  lest  this  hateful  and  demoralizing 
form  of  punishment  should  be  inflicted  upon  her.  For 
some  time  now,  by  great  wariness  and  circumspection  she 
had  evaded  it,  and  she  had  begun  to  entertain  the  trembling 


84  Greatheart 

hope  that  she  was  at  last  considered  to  have  passed  the 
age  for  such  childish  correction.  But  her  mother's  out- 
break of  violence  on  the  day  of  their  departure  had  been  a 
painful  disillusion,  and  she  knew  well  what  it  would  mean  to 
return  home  in  disgrace  with  the  de  Vignes.  Her  cheeks 
burned  and  tingled  still  with  the  shame  of  the  discovery. 
She  felt  that  another  of  the  old  dreadful  chastisements 
would  overwhelm  her  utterly.  And  yet  that  she  would 
most  certainly  have  to  endure  it  if  she  were  unruly  now  was 
conviction  that  pressed  like  a  cold  weight  upon  her  heart. 
Had  not  the  letter  she  had  received  from  her  mother  only 
that  morning  contained  a  stern  injunction  to  her  to  behave 
herself,  as  though  she  had  been  a  naughty,  wayward  child? 

"It  would  kill  me!"  she  told  herself  passionately.  "Oh, 
why,  why,  why  can't  I  grow  up  quick  and  marry?  But  I 
never  shall  grow  up  at  home.  That's  the  horrible,  horrible 
part  of  it.  And  I  shall  never  have  a  chance  of  marrying 
with  mother  looking  on.  I'm  just  a  slave — a  slave.  Other 
girls  can  have  a  good  time,  do  as  they  like,  flirt  when  they 
like.  But  I — never — never!" 

Her  fit  of  rebellion  lasted  long.  The  emancipation  from 
the  home  bondage  was  beginning  to  work  within  her  as 
the  Colonel  had  predicted.  Seen  from  a  distance,  the  old 
tyranny  seemed  outrageous  and  impossible,  to  go  back 
into  it  monstrous.  And  yet,  so  far  as  she  could  see,  there 
was  no  way  of  escape.  She  was  not  apparently  to  be 
allowed  to  make  any  friends  outside  her  own  sphere.  The 
freedom  she  had  begun  to  enjoy  so  feverishly  had  very 
suddenly  been  circumscribed,  and  if  she  dared  to  overstep 
the  bounds  marked  out  for  her,  she  knew  what  to  expect. 

And  yet  she  longed  for  freedom  as  she  had  never  longed 
in  her  life  before.  She  was  nearly  desperate  with  longing, 
so  sweet  had  been  the  first,  intoxicating  taste  thereof.  For 
the  first  time  she  had  seen  life  from  the  standpoint  of  the 
ordinary,  happy  girl,  and  the  contrast  to  the  life  she  knew 


The  House  of  Bondage  85 

had  temporarily  upset  her  equilibrium.  Her  mother's 
treatment,  harsh  before,  seemed  unendurable  now.  Her 
cheeks  burned  afresh  with  a  fierce,  intolerable  shame. 
No,  no!  She  could  never  face  it  again.  She  could  not! 
She  could  not !  Already  her  brief  emancipation  had  begun 
to  cost  her  dear.  She  must — she  must — find  a  way  of  escape 
ere  she  went  back  into  thraldom.  For  she  knew  her 
mother's  strength  so  terribly  well.  It  would  conquer  all 
resistance  by  sheer,  overwhelming  weight.  She  could  not 
remember  a  single  occasion  upon  which  she  had  ever  in  the 
smallest  degree  held  her  own  against  it.  Her  will  had  been 
broken  to  her  mother's  so  often  that  the  very  thought  of 
prolonged  resistance  seemed  absurd.  She  knew  herself  to 
be  incapable  of  it.  She  was  bound  to  crumple  under  the 
strain,  bound  to  be  humbled  to  the  dust  long  ere  the  faintest 
hope  of  outmatching  her  mother's  iron  will  had  begun  to 
dawn  in  her  soul.  The  very  thought  made  her  feel  puny 
and  contemptible.  If  she  resisted  to  the  very  uttermost 
of  her  strength,  yet  would  she  be  crushed  in  the  end,  and 
that  end  would  be  more  horribly  painful  than  she  dared 
to  contemplate.  All  her  childhood  it  had  been  the  same. 
She  had  been  conquered  ere  she  had  passed  the  threshold 
of  rebellion.  She  had  never  been  permitted  to  exercise 
a  will  of  her  own,  and  the  discovery  that  she  possessed  one 
had  been  something  of  a  surprise  to  Dinah. 

It  was  partly  this  discovery  that  made  her  long  so  passion- 
ately for  freedom.  She  wanted  to  grow,  to  develop,  to  get 
beyond  the  stultifying  influence  of  that  unvarying  despot- 
ism. She  longed  to  get  away  from  the  perpetual  dread  of 
consequences  that  so  haunted  her.  She  wanted  to  breathe 
her  own  atmosphere,  live  her  own  life,  be  herself. 

"I  believe  I  could  do  lots  of  things  if  I  only  had  the 
chance,"  she  murmured  to  herself;  and  then  she  was  sud- 
denly plunged  into  the  memory  of  another  occasion  when 
she  had  received  summary  and  austere  punishment  for 


86  Greatheart 

omitting  scales  from  her  practising.  But  then  no  one 
ever  liked  doing  what  they  must,  and  she  had  never  had 
any  real  taste  for  music;  or  if  she  had  had,  it  had  vanished 
long  since  under  the  uninspiring  goad  of  compulsion. 

All  her  morning  depression  came  back  while  these  bitter 
meditations  racked  her  brain.  Oh,  if  only — if  only — her 
father  had  chosen  a  lady  for  his  wife !  It  was  disloyal,  she 
knew,  to  indulge  such  a  thought,  but  her  mood  was  black 
and  her  soul  was  in  revolt.  She  was  sure — quite  sure — that 
marriage  presented  the  only  possibility  of  deliverance,  and 
deliverance  was  beginning  to  seem  imperative.  Her  whole 
individuality,  which  this  past  week  of  giddy  liberty  had 
done  so  much  to  develop,  cried  aloud  for  it. 

She  went  to  the  window.  Billy  had  grown  tired  of  wait- 
ing and  gone  off  without  her.  She  fancied  she  could  see  his 
sturdy  figure  on  the  further  slope.  Her  eyes  took  in  the 
whole  lovely  scene,  and  suddenly,  effervescently,  her  spirits 
began  to  rise.  The  inherent  gaiety  of  her  bubbled  to  the 
surface.  What  a  waste  of  time  to  stay  here  grizzling  while 
that  paradise  lay  awaiting  her!  The  sweetness  of  her 
nature  began  to  assert  itself  once  more,  and  an  almost 
fevered  determination  to  live  in  the  present,  to  be  happy 
while  she  could,  entered  into  her.  With  impetuous  energy 
she  pushed  the  evil  thoughts  away.  She  would  be  happy. 
She  would!  She  would!  And  happiness  was  not  difficult 
to  Dinah.  It  bubbled  in  her,  a  natural  spring,  that  ever 
flowed  again  even  after  the  worst  storms  had  forced  it 
from  its  course. 

She  even  laughed  to  herself  as  she  prepared  to  join  Billy. 
Life  was  good, — oh  yes,  life  was  good!  And  home  and  the 
trials  thereof  were  many  miles  away.  Who  could  be  un- 
happy for  long  in  such  a  world  as"  this,  where  the  air  sparkled 
like  champagne,  and  the  magic  of  it  ran  riot  in  the  blood? 

The  black  mood  passed  away  from  her  spirit  like  a  cloud. 
She  threw  on  cap  and  coat  and  ran  to  join  the  merry-makers. 


CHAPTER  XI 

OLYMPUS 

ALL  through  that  afternoon  Dinah  and  Billy  played  like 
cubs  in  the  snow.  They  were  very  inexperienced  in 
the  art  of  luging,  but  they  took  their  spills  with  much 
heartiness  and  a  total  disregard  of  dignity  that  made  for 
complete  enjoyment. 

When  the  sun  went  down  they  forsook  the  sport,  and 
joined  in  a  snowballing  match  with  a  dozen  or  more  of  their 
fellow-visitors.  But  Dinah  proved  herself  so  adroit  and 
impartial  at  this  game  that  she  presently  became  a  general 
target,  and  found  it  advisable  to  retreat  before  she  was 
routed.  This  she  did  with  considerable  skill  and  no  small 
strategy,  finally  darting  flushed  and  breathless  into  the 
hotel,  covered  with  snow  from  head  to  foot,  but  game  to  the 
last. 

"Well  done!"  commented  a  lazy  voice  behind  her. 
"  Now  raise  the  drawbridge  and  lower  the  portcullis,  and  the 
honours  of  war  are  assured." 

She  turned  with  the  flashing  movement  of  a  bird  upon  the 
wing,  and  found  herself  face  to  face  with  Sir  Eustace. 

His  blue  eyes  met  hers  with  deliberate  nonchalance. 
"Sit  down,"  he  said,  "while  I  fetch  you  some  tea!" 

Her  heart  gave  an  odd  little  leap  that  was  half  of  pleasure 
and  half  of  dread.  She  stammered  incoherently  that  he 
must  not  take  the  trouble. 

But  he  was  evidently  bent  upon  so  doing,  for  he  pressed 

87 


88  Greatheart 

her  into  the  seat  which  he  had  just  vacated.  "Keep  the 
place  in  the  corner  for  me!"  he  commanded,  and  lounged 
away  upon  his  errand  with  imperial  leisureliness. 

Dinah  watched  his  tall  figure  out  of  sight.  The  encounter 
both  astounded  and  thrilled  her.  She  wondered  if  she 
were  cheapening  herself  by  meekly  obeying  his  behest, 
wondered  what  Rose — that  practised  coquette — would 
have  done  under  such  circumstances;  but  to  depart  seemed 
so  wholly  out  of  the  question  that  she  dismissed  the  wonder 
as  futile.  She  could  only  wait  for  the  play  to  develop,  and 
trust  to  her  own  particular  luck,  which  had  so  favoured 
her  the  night  before,  to  give  her  a  cue. 

He  returned  with  tea  and  cake  which  he  set  before  her 
on  a  little  table  that  he  had  apparently  secured  beforehand 
for  the  purpose.  "I  am  sure  you  must  be  ravenous," 
he  said,  in  those  high-bred,  somewhat  insolent  accents  of 
his. 

"I  am,"  Dinah  admitted  frankly. 

"Then  let  me  see  you  satisfy  your  hunger!"  he  said, 
seating  himself  in  the  corner  he  had  reserved. 

"Oh,  but  not  alone!"  she  protested.  "You — you  must 
have  some  too. " 

He  laughed.  "No.  I  am  going  to  smoke — with  your 
permission.  It  will  do  me  more  good. " 

"  Oh,  pray  do ! "  said  Dinah,  embarrassed  still  but  strangely 
elated.  "It  makes  me  feel  rather  greedy,  that's  all." 

"I  am  greedy  too,"  he  told  her,  his  blue  eyes  still  upon 
her  vivid,  sparkling  face.  "And — always  with  your  permis- 
sion— I  am  going  to  indulge  my  greed." 

She  did  not  understand  him,  but  prudence  restrained 
her  from  telling  him  so.  Seated  as  she  was  he  was  the  only 
person  in  the  vestibule  whom  she  could  see,  her  back  being 
turned  to  all  beside.  She  wondered,  again  with  that 
delightful  yet  half-startled  thrill,  if  his  meaning  were  in 
any  way  connected  with  this  fact.  He  certainly  absorbed 


Olympus  89 

the  whole  of  her  attention,  if  that  were  what  he  wanted. 
Her  hunger  faded  completely  into  the  background. 

He  lighted  a  cigarette  and  began  to  smoke.  The  space 
beyond  them  was  full  of  moving  figures  and  laughing  voices ; 
but  the  turmoil  scarcely  reached  Dinah.  An  invisible 
barrier  seemed  to  shut  them  off  from  all  the  rest.  They 
were  not  merely  aloof;  they  were  alone,  and  a  curiously 
intimate  touch  pervaded  their  solitude.  She  felt  her  spirit 
start  in  quivering  response  to  the  call  of  his,  just  as  the  night 
before  when  she  had  floated  with  him  above  the  clouds. 
What  was  happening  to  her  she  had  not  the  least  idea,  but 
the  consciousness  of  his  near  presence  pulsed  magnetically 
through  and  through  her.  Scott's  brief  advice  of  the  morn- 
ing was  scattered  from  her  memory  like  feathers  before  the 
wind.  She  had  no  memory.  She  lived  only  in  this  burning 
splendid  ardour  of  a  moment. 

She  drank  her  tea  mechanically,  finding  nothing  enig- 
matic in  his  silence.  The  direct  look  of  his  blue  eyes 
discomfited  her  strangely,  but  it  was  a  sublime  discom- 
fiture— the  discomfiture  of  the  moth  around  the  flame. 
She  longed  to  meet  it,  but  did  not  wholly  dare.  With 
veiled  glances  she  yielded  to  the  attraction,  not  yet  bold 
enough  for  complete  surrender. 

He  spoke  at  last,  and  she  started. 

"Well?     Am  I  forgiven?" 

The  nonchalant  enquiry  sent  the  blood  in  another  hot 
wave  to  her  cheeks.  Had  she  ever  presumed  to  be  angry 
with  this  godlike  person? 

"  For  what? "  she  asked,  her  voice  very  low. 

He  leaned  towards  her.  "Did  I  only  fancy  that  by  some 
evil  chance  I  had  offended  you?" 

She  kept  her  eyes  lowered.  "I  thought  you  were  the 
offended  one,"  she  said. 

"I?"  She  caught  the  note  of  surprise  in  his  voice,  and 
it  sent  a  very  curious  little  sense  of  shame  through  her. 


90  Greatheart 

With  an  effort 'she  raised  her  eyes.  "Yes.  I  thought 
you  were  offended.  You  went  by  me  this  morning  without 
seeing  me." 

His  look  was  very  intent,  almost  as  if  he  were  searching 
for  something;  but  it  did  not  disconcert  her  as  she  had 
half -expected  to  be  disconcerted.  His  eyes  were  more 
caressing  than  dominant  just  then. 

"What  if  I  didn't  see  you  because  I  didn't  dare?"  he 
said. 

That  gave  her  confidence.  "  I  should  think  you  couldn't 
be  so  silly  as  that, "  she  said  with  decision. 

He  smiled  a  little.  "Thank  you,  miladi.  Then  wasn't 
it — almost  equally  silly — your  word,  not  mine! — of  you  to 
be  afraid  of  me  last  night?" 

She  felt  the  thrust  in  a  moment,  and  went  white,  con- 
scious of  the  weak  sick  feeling  that  so  often  came  over  her  at 
the  sound  of  her  mother's  step  when  she  was  in  disgrace. 

He  saw  her  distress,  but  he  allowed  several  moments  to 
elapse  before  he  came  to  the  rescue.  Then  lightly,  "  Pray 
don't  let  the  matter  disturb  you!"  he  said.  "Only — for 
your  peace  of  mind — let  me  tell  you  that  you  really  have 
nothing  to  fear.  Out  here  we  live  in  fairyland,  and  no  one 
is  in  earnest.  We  just  enjoy  ourselves,  and  Mrs.  Grundy 
simply  doesn't  exist.  We  are  not  ashamed  of  being  frivol- 
ous, and  we  do  whatever  we  like.  And  there  are  no  conse- 
quences. Always  remember  that,  Miss  Bathurst!  There 
are  never  any  consequences  in  fairyland." 

His  eyes  suddenly  laughed  at  her,  and  Dinah  was  vastly 
reassured.  Her  dismay  vanished,  leaving  a  blithe  sense  of 
irresponsibility  in  its  place. 

"I  shall  remember  that,"  she  said,  with  her  gay  little 
nod.  "  I  dreamt  last  night  that  we  were  in  Olympus. " 

"We?  "he  said  softly. 

She  nodded  again,  flushed  and  laughing,  confident  that 
she  had  received  her  cue.  "And  you — were  Apollo. " 


Olympus  91 

She  saw  his  eyes  change  magically,  flashing  into  swift  life, 
and  dropped  her  own  before  the  mastery  that  dawned  there. 

"And  you,"  he  questioned  under  his  breath,  "were 
Daphne?" 

"Perhaps,"  she  said  enigmatically.  After  all,  flirting 
was  not  such  a  difficult  art,  and  since  he  had  declared  that 
there  could  be  no  consequences,  she  did  not  see  why  she 
should  bury  this  new-found  talent  of  hers. 

' '  What  a  charming  dream ! "  he  commented  lazily.  ' '  But 
you  know  what  happened  to  Daphne  when  she  ran  away, 
don't  you?" 

She  flung  him  a  laughing  challenge.  "He  didn't  catch 
her  anyway." 

"True!"  smiled  Sir  Eustace.  "But  have  you  never 
wondered  whether  it  wouldn't  have  been  more  sport  for  her 
if  he  had?  It  wouldn't  be  very  exciting,  you  know,  to  lead 
the  life  of  a  vegetable. " 

"It  isn't!"  declared  Dinah,  with  abrupt  sincerity. 

"Oh,  you  know  something  about  it,  do  you?"  he  said. 
"Then  the  modern  Daphne  ought  to  have  too  much  sense 
to  run  away." 

She  laughed  with  a  touch  of  wistfulness.  "I  wonder 
how  she  felt  about  it  afterwards. " 

"  I  wonder, "  he  agreed,  tipping  the  ash  off  his  cigarette. 
"It  didn't  matter  so  much  to  Apollo,  you  see.  He  had 
plenty  to  choose  from." 

Dinah's  wistfulness  vanished  in  a  swift  breath  of  indigna- 
tion. ' '  Really ! ' '  she  said. 

He  looked  at  her.  "Yes,  really,"  he  told  her,  with 
deliberation.  "And  he  didn't  need  to  run  after  them 
either.  But,  possibly,"  his  gaze  softened  again,  "possibly 
that  was  what  made  him  want  Daphne  the  most.  Elusive- 
ness  is  quite  a  fascinating  quality  if  it  isn't  carried  too  far. 
Still — "  he  smiled — "  I  expect  he  got  over  it  in  the  end,  you 
know;  but  in  her  case  I  am  not  quite  so  sure. " 


92  Greatheart 

"I  don't  suppose  he  did  get  over  it,"  maintained  Dinah 
with  spirit.  "All  the  rest  must  have  seemed  very  cheap 
afterwards. " 

" Perhaps  he  was  more  at  home  with  the  cheap  variety," 
he  suggested  carelessly. 

His  eyes  had  wandered  to  the  buzzing  throng  behind  her, 
and  she  saw  a  glint  of  criticism — or  was  it  merely  easy  con- 
tempt?— dispel  the  smile  with  which  he  had  regarded  her. 
His  mouth  wore  a  faint  but  unmistakable  sneer. 

But  in  a  moment  his  look  returned  to  her,  kindled 
upon  her.  "Are  you  for  the  ice  carnival  to-night?" 
he  asked. 

She  drew  a  quick,  eager  breath.  "Oh,  I  do  want  to 
come!  But  I  don't  know — yet — if  I  shall  be  allowed. " 

"Why  ask?"  he  questioned. 

She  hesitated,  then  ingenuously  she  told  him  her  diffi- 
culty. "I  got  into  trouble  last  night  for  dancing  so  late 
with  you.  And — and — I  may  be  sent  to  bed  early  to  make 
up  for  it. " 

He  frowned.     "  Do  you  mean  to  say  you'd  go  ? " 

She  coloured  vividly.  "I'm  only  nineteen,  and  I  have 
to  do  as  I'm  told." 

"  Heavens  above !"  he  said.  "You  belong  to  the  genera- 
tion before  the  last  evidently.  No  girl  ever  does  as  she  is 
told  now-a-days.  It  isn't  the  thing." 

"I  do,"  whispered  Dinah,  in  dire  confusion.  "At  least 
— generally." 

"And  what  happens  if  you  don't?"  he  queried.  "Do 
they  whip  you  and  put  you  to  bed?" 

She  clenched  her  hands  hard.  "Don't!"  she  said. 
"You're  only  joking,  I  know.  But — I  hate  it!" 

His  manner  changed  in  a  moment,  became  half-quizzical, 
half-caressing.  "Poor  little  brown  elf,  what  a  shame! 
Well,  come  if  you  can!  I  shall  look  out  for  you.  I  may 
have  something  to  show  you. " 


Olympus  93 

"May  yon?  Oh,  what?"  cried  Dinah,  all  eagerness  in  a 
moment. 

He  laughed.  There  was  a  provoking  hint  of  mystery 
in  his  manner.  "Ah!  That  lies  in  the  future,  miladi." 

"But  tell  me!"  she  persisted. 

"Will  you  come  then?"  he  asked. 

"Perhaps,"  she  said.     "If  I  can!" 

"Ah!    And  perhaps  not!"  he  said.     "What  then?" 

Dinah's  mouth  grew  suddenly  firm.  "I  will  come,"  she 
said. 

"You  will?"  His  keen  eyes  held  hers  with  smiling  com- 
pulsion. 

"Yes,  I  will." 

He  made  a  gesture  as  if  he  would  take  her  hand,  but 
restrained  himself,  and  paused  to  tip  the  ash  once  more  off 
his  cigarette. 

"Now  tell  me!"  commanded  Dinah. 

"I  don't  think  I  will,"  he  said  deliberately. 

"But  you  must!"  said  Dinah. 

His  eyes  sought  hers  again  with  that  look  which  she 
found  it  impossible  to  meet.  She  bent  over  her  cup. 

"What  will  you  show  me?"  she  persisted.     "Tell  me!" 

"I  didn't  say  I  would  show  you  anything,"  he  pointed 
out.  "I  said  I  might." 

"Tell  me  what  it  was  anyhow!"  she  said. 

He  leaned  nearer  to  her,  and  suddenly  it  seemed  to  her 
that  they  were  quite  alone,  very  far  removed  from  the  rest 
of  the  world.  "It  may  not  be  to-night,"  he  murmured. 
"Or  even  to-morrow.  But  some  day — in  this  land  where 
there  are  no  consequences — I  will  show  you — when  the 
fates  are  propitious,  not  before — some  of  the  things  that 
Daphne  missed  when  she  ran  away." 

He  ceased  to  speak.  Dinah's  face  was  burning.  She 
could  not  look  at  him.  She  felt  as  if  a  magic  flame  had 
wrapped  her  round.  Her  whole  body  was  tingling,  her  heart 


94  Greatheart 

wildly  a-quiver.  There  was  a  rapture  in  that  moment 
that  was  almost  too  intense,  too  poignant,  to  be  borne. 

He  was  the  first  to  move.  Calmly  he  leaned  back,  and 
resumed  his  cigarette.  Through  the  aromatic  smoke  his 
voice  came  to  her  again. 

"Are  you  angry?" 

Her  whole  being  stirred  in  response.  She  uttered  a 
little  quivering  laugh  that  was  near  akin  to  tears. 

"No — of  course — no!  But  I — I  think  I  ought  to  go 
and  dress!  It's  getting  late,  isn't  it?  Thank  you  for 
giving  me  tea ! ' '  She  rose,  her  movements  quick  and  dainty 
as  the  flight  of  a  robin.  "Good-bye!"  she  murmured 
shyly. 

He  rose  also  with  a  sweeping  bow.  "A  bientot, — Daphne !" 
he  said. 

She  gave  him  a  single  swift  glance  from  under  fluttering 
lashes,  and  turned  away  in  silence. 

She  went  up  the  stairs  with  the  speed  of  a  bird  on  the 
wing,  but  she  could  not  outpace  the  wonder  and  the  wild 
delight  at  her  heart.  As  she  entered  her  own  room  at 
length,  she  laughed,  a  breathless,  rippling  laugh.  How 
amazing — and  how  gorgeous — was  this  new  life ! 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  WINE  OF  THE  GODS 

THE  rink  was  ablaze  with  fairy-lights  under  the  starry 
sky.  Rose  de  Vigne,  exquisitely  fair  in  ruby  velvet 
and  ermine  furs  paused  on  the  verandah,  looking  pensively 
forth. 

Very  beautiful  she  looked  standing  there,  and  Captain 
Brent  of  the  Sappers  striding  forth  with  his  skates  jingling 
in  his  hand  stopped  as  one  compelled. 

"Are  you  waiting  for  someone,  Miss  de  Vigne?  Or  may 
I  escort  you?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  faint  smile  as  if  in  pity  for 
his  disappointment.  "Too  late,  I  am  afraid,  Captain 
Brent.  I  have  promised  Sir  Eustace  to  skate  with  him." 

"Who?"  Brent  glanced  towards  the  rink.  "Why,  he's 
down  there  already  dancing  about  with  your  little  cousin. 
That's  her  laugh.  Don't  you  hear  it?" 

Dinah's  laugh,  clear  and  ringing,  came  to  them  on  the 
still  air.  Rose's  slim  figure  stiffened  very  slightly,  barely 
perceptibly,  at  the  sound.  "Sir  Eustace  has  forgotten  his 
engagement,"  she  said  icily.  "Yes,  Captain  Brent,  I  will 
come  with  you." 

"Good  business!"  he  said  heartily.  "It's  a  glorious 
night.  Somebody  said  there  was  a  change  coming;  but  I 
don't  believe  it.  Maddening  if  a  thaw  comes  before  the 
luging  competition.  The  run  is  just  perfection  now.  I'm 
going  up  there  presently.  It's  glorious  by  moonlight." 

95 


96  Greatheart 

He  chattered  inconsequently  on,  happy  in  the  fact 
that  he  had  secured  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  hotel  for  his 
partner,  and  not  in  the  least  disturbed  by  any  lack  of  re- 
sponse on  her  part.  To  skate  with  her  hand  in  hand  was 
the  utmost  height  of  his  ambition  just  then,  his  brain  not 
being  of  a  particularly  aspiring  order. 

Down  on  the  rink  all  was  gaiety  and  laughter.  The 
lights  shone  ruby,  emerald,  and  sapphire,  upon  the  darting 
figures.  The  undernote  of  the  rushing  skates  made  magic 
music  everywhere.  The  whole  scene  was  fantastic — a  glit- 
tering fairyland  of  colour  and  enchantment. 

"Each  evening  seems  more  splendid  than  the  last," 
declared  Dinah. 

"They  always  will  if  you  spend  them  in  my  company," 
said  Sir  Eustace.  "Do  you  know  I  could  very  soon  teach 
you  to  skate  as  perfectly  as  you  dance?" 

"I  believe  you  could  teach  me  anything,"  she  answered 
happily. 

"Given  a  free  hand  I  believe  I  could,"  he  said.  "But 
the  gift  is  yours,  not  mine.  You  have  the  most  wonderful 
knack  of  divining  a  mood.  You  adapt  yourself  instinctively . 
I  never  knew  anyone  respond  so  perfectly  to  the  unspoken 
wish.  How  is  it,  I  wonder?" 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered  shyly.  "But  I  can't 
help  understanding  what  you  want." 

"Does  that  mean  that  we  are  kindred  spirits?"  he  asked, 
and  suddenly  the  clasp  of  his  hands  was  close  and  intimate. 

"I  expect  it  does,"  said  Dinah;  but  she  said  it  with  a 
touch  of  uneasiness.  The  voice  that  had  spoken  within  her 
the  night  before,  warning  her,  urging  her  to  be  gone,  was 
beginning  to  murmur  again,  bidding  her  to  beware. 

She  turned  from  the  subject  with  ready  versatility,  obe- 
dient to  the  danger-signal.  "Oh,  there  is  Rose!  I  am 
afraid  I  ran  away  from  her  after  dinner.  They  went  up- 
stairs for  coffee,  but  I  was  so  dreadfully  afraid  of  being 


The  Wine  of  the  Gods  97 

stopped  that  I  hung  behind  and  escaped.  I  do  hope  the 
Colonel  won't  be  in  a  wax  again.  But  I  don't  see  that  there 
was  anything  wicked  in  it ;  for  Lady  Grace  herself  is  coming 
to  look  on  presently." 

"I  skated  with  Miss  de  Vigne  nearly  all  the  afternoon," 
observed  Sir  Eustace.  "But  she  is  a  regular  ice-maiden. 
I  couldn't  get  any  enthusiasm  out  of  her.  Tell  me,  is  she 
like  that  all  through?  Or  is  it  just  a  pose?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  Dinah  said.  "I've  never  got 
through  the  outer  crust.  But  then  of  course  I'm  far 
beneath  her." 

"How  so?"  asked  Sir  Eustace. 

She  laughed  up  at  him  with  the  happy  confidence  of  a 
child.  '  'Can't  you  see  it  for  yourself?  I — I  am  a  mere  gutter- 
snipe compared  to  the  de  Vignes.  They  live  in  a  great 
house  with  lots  of  servants  and  cars.  They  never  do  a 
thing  for  themselves.  I  don't  suppose  Rose  could  do  her 
hair  to  save  her  life.  While  we — we  live  in  a  tumble-down, 
ramshackle  old  place,  and  do  all  the  work  ourselves.  I've 
never  been  away  from  home  in  my  life  before.  You  see, 
we're  poor,  and  Billy's  schooling  takes  up  a  lot  of  money.  I 
had  to  leave  school  when  he  first  went  as  a  boarder.  And 
that  is  three  years  ago  now.  So  I  have  forgotten  all  I  ever 
learnt." 

"Except  dancing,"  he  suggested. 

"Oh,  well,  that's  born  in  me.  I  couldn't  very  well  for- 
get that.  My  mother — "  Dinah  hesitated  momentarily— 
"my  mother  was  a  dancer  before  she  married." 

"And  she  taught  you?"  asked  Sir  Eustace. 

"No,  no!  She  never  taught  me  anything  except  useful 
things — like  cooking  and  sewing  and  house-work.  And  I 
detest  them  all,"  said  Dinah  frankly.  "I  like  sweeping, 
the  garden  and  digging  the  potatoes  far  better." 

"She  keeps  you  busy  then,"  commented  Sir  Eustace,, 
with  semi-humorous  interest. 


9$  Greatheart 

"Busy  isn't  the  word  for  it,"  declared  Dinah.  "I'm 
going  from  morning  till  night.  We  do  the  washing  at  home 
too.  I  get  up  at  five  and  go  to  bed  at  nine.  I  make  nearly 
all  my  own  clothes  too.  That's  why  I  haven't  got  any," 
she  ended  naively. 

He  laughed.  "Not  really!  But  what  makes  you  work 
so  hard  as  that?  You're  wasting  all  your  best  time. 
You'll  never  be  so  young  again,  you  know." 

"I  know!"  cried  Dinah,  and  suddenly  a  wild  gust  of 
rebellion  went  through  her.  "It's  hateful!  I  never  knew 
how  hateful  till  I  came  here.  Going  back  will  be — too 
horrible  for  words.  But — "  her  voice  fell  abruptly  flat — 
"what  am  I  to  do?" 

"I  should  go  on  strike,"  he  said  lightly.  "Tell  your 
good  mother  that  she  must  find  someone  else  to  do  the 
work!  You  are  going  to  take  it  easy  and  enjoy  yourself. " 
~l  Dinah  uttered  a  short,  painful  laugh. 

"Wouldn't  that  do?"  he  asked. 

"No." 

"Why  not?"  he  questioned  with  indolent  amusement. 
"Surely  you're  not  afraid  of  the  broomstick!" 

Dinah  gave  a  great  start,  and  suddenly,  as  they  skated, 
pressed  close  to  him  with  the  action  of  some  small,  terrified 
creature  seeking  shelter.  "Oh,  don't — don't  let  us  spoil 
this  perfect  night  by  talking  of  my  home  affairs!"  she 
pleaded,  her  voice  quick  and  passionate.  "I  want  to  put 
everything  right  away.  I  want  to  forget  there  is  such  a 
place  as  home. ' ' 

His  arm  was  around  her  in  a  moment.  He  held  her 
caught  to  him.  "I  can  soon  make  you  forget  that,  my 
Daphne, "  he  said.  "  I  can  lead  you  through  such  a  wonder- 
land as  will  dazzle  you  into  complete  forgetfulness  of 
everything  else.  But  you  must  trust  me,  you  know.  You 
mustn't  be  afraid." 

He  was  drawing  her  away  from  the  glare  of  coloured 


The  Wine  of  the  Gods  99 

lights  as  he  spoke,  drawing  her  to  the  further  end  of  the 
rink  where  stood  a  tiny,  rustic  pavilion. 

She  went  with  him  with  a  breathless  sense  of  high  adven- 
ture, skimming  the  ice  in  time  with  his  rhythmic  movements, 
mesmerized  into  an  enchanted  quiescence. 

They  reached  the  pavilion,  and  he  paused.  The  other 
skaters  were  left  behind.  They  stood  as  it  were  in  a  magic 
circle  all  their  own.  And  only  the  moon  looked  on. 

"Ah,  Daphne!"  he  said,  and  took  her  in  his  arms. 

There  came  to  Dinah  then  a  wild  and  desperate  sense  of 
fear,  fear  that  was  coupled  with  a  wholly  unreasoning  and 
instinctive  shame.  She  strained  back  from  him.  "Oh 
no!  Oh  no!"  she  gasped.  "I  mustn't!  I'm  sure  it's 
wrong ! ' ' 

But  he  mastered  her  very  slowly,  wholly  without  vio- 
lence, yet  wholly  irresistibly.  His  dark  face  with  its  blue, 
compelling  eyes  dominated  her,  conquered  her.  And  all  her 
life  resistance  had  been  quelled  in  her.  Her  will  wavered 
and  was  down. 

"Why  should  it  be  wrong?"  he  whispered.  "I  tell  you 
that  nothing  matters — nothing  matters.  We  take  our 
pleasures,  and  we  tell  no  one.  It  is  no  one's  business  but 
our  own,  sweetheart.  And  nothing  is  wrong,  if  no  harm 
is  done  to  anyone." 

Subtle,  alluring,  half -laughing,  half -relentless,  he  drew  her 
closer  yet,  he  bent  and  pressed  his  lips  upon  her  upturned 
face.  But  she  quivered  still  and  shrank,  though  unresist- 
ing. She  could  not  give  her  lips  to  his.  His  kiss  burned 
through  and  through  her,  so  that  she  longed  to  flee  away 
and  hide. 

For  though  that  kiss  sent  a  thrill  of  wild  ecstasy  through 
her,  there  was  anguish  mingled  therewith.  Even  while 
she  exulted  over  her  unexpected  victory,  she  was  smitten 
with  the  thought  that  it  had  cost  her  too  dear.  Had  she 
told  him  too  much  about  herself  that  he  held  her  thus 


ioo  Greatheart 

cheaply  ?  Would  he — however  urgent  his  desire  to  do  so — 
would  he  have  dreamed  of  treating  Rose  thus?  Or  any 
other  girl  of  his  own  standing? 

The  thought  went  through  her  like  a  dagger.  She  bent 
herself  back  over  his  arm  avoiding  his  lips  a  second  time. 
That  one  kiss  had  opened  her  eyes. 

"Oh,  let  me  go!"  she  said,  her  voice  muffled  and  tremu- 
lous. "You  mustn't — ever — do  it  again." 

"Why  not?"  he  whispered  softly.  "What  does  it 
matter?  This  is  the  land  of  no  consequences." 

"I  can't  help  it,"  she  whispered  back.  "It  may  not 
mean  anything  to  you.  But — but — it  makes  me  feel — 
wicked." 

He  laughed  at  her  with  tender  ridicule.  His  arms  still 
held  her,  but  no  longer  closely. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  my  elf  of  the  mountains!"  he  said. 
"I  won't  do  it  again — yet.  But  there  is  nothing  in  it  I 
tell  you.  And  what  does  it  matter  if  no  one  knows?  Why 
shouldn't  you  have  all  the  fun  you  can  get?" 

Dinah  straightened  herself,  and  passed  her  hands  over 
her  face  with  an  oddly  childish  gesture.  He  behaved  as 
though  he  had  conferred  a  favour  upon  her;  but  yet 
the  horrible  feeling  of  shame  lingered.  Her  mother's 
most  drastic  punishments  had  never  humbled  her  more 
completely. 

She  drew  herself  from  his  hold.  "  I  feel  it  does  matter, " 
she  said,  her  voice  pathetically  small  and  shy.  "But — I 
know  you  didn't  mean  to — to  offend  me.  So  let's  forget  it, 
please !  Let's  go  back ! ' ' 

She  gave  him  her  hand  with  a  timid  gesture,  and  he  took 
it  with  a  smile  that  held  arrogance  as  well  as  amusement. 
"We  will  go  back  certainly,"  he  said.  "But  we  shall  not 
forget.  We  have  tasted  the  wine  of  the  gods,  my  Daphne, 
and  there  is  magic  in  the  draught.  Those  who  drink  once 
are  bound  to  come  again  for  more." 


The  Wine  of  the  Gods  101 

"Oh  no!     Oh  no!"  said  Dinah. 

But  even  as  she  said  it,  she  felt  herself  to  be  battling 
against  destiny. 

In  that  moment  she  knew  beyond  all  doubting  that  by 
some  means  of  which  she  had  no  understanding  he  had 
caught  her  will  and  made  it  captive.  Elude  him  though 
she  might  for  a  time,  she  was  bound  to  be  his  helpless 
prisoner  at  the  last. 

Yet  his  magnetism  was  such  that  she  yielded  herself  to 
him  almost  mechanically  as  they  went  back  into  the  giddy 
vortex  of  the  carnival.  Even  in  the  midst  of  her  dismay 
and  uncertainty,  she  was  strangely,  almost  deliriously 
happy. 

Romance  with  gold-tipped  wings  unfurled  had  suddenly 
descended  from  the  high  heavens  and  flitted  before  her, 
luring  her  on. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

FRIENDSHIP    IN    THE    DESERT 

ON  the  edge  of  the  rink  immediately  below  the  hotel,  a 
slight  figure  was  standing,  patient  as  the  Sphinx, 
awaiting  them. 

Sir  Eustace's  keen  eyes  lighted  upon  it  from  afar.  "  There 
is  my  brother,"  he  said.  "We  will  go  and  speak  to  him  if 
you  have  no  objection." 

Dinah  received  the  suggestion  with  eagerness.  She  was 
possessed  for  the  moment  by  an  urgent  desire  to  get  back  to 
the  commonplace.  She  had  been  whirled  off  her  feet,  and 
albeit  the  flight  had  held  rapture,  she  had  a  desperate 
longing  to  tread  solid  ground  once  more. 

Possibly  her  companion  shared  something  of  this  feeling. 
The  game  was  his,  but  there  was  no  more  to  be  won  from 
her  that  night.  The  time  had  come  to  descend  from  the 
heights  to  the  dull  and  banal  levels.  He  divined  her  wish 
to  return  to  earth,  and  he  had  no  reason  for  thwarting  it. 
With  a  careless  laugh  he  put  on  speed  and  rushed  her  dizzily 
through  the  throng. 

To  Dinah  it  was  as  a  rapid  fall  through  space.  She  felt 
as  if  she  had  been  suddenly  shot  from  the  gates  of  Olympus. 
She  reached  Scott,  flushed  and  breathless  and  quivering 
still  with  the  wonder  of  it. 

He  greeted  her  courteously.  "Are  you  having  a  good 
time,  Miss  Bathurst?" 

She    answered    him    gaspingly.     Somehow    it    was    an 

102 


Friendship  in  the  Desert  103 

immense  relief  to  find  herself  by  his  side.  "Yes;  a  glorious 
time.  But  I  am  coming  off  now.  Have  you — have  you 
seen  anything  of  Lady  Grace  or  the  Colonel?" 

"I  have  just  had  the  pleasure  of  making  Lady  Grace's 
acquaintance,"  he  said.  "Are  you  really  coming  off  now? 
Have  you  had  enough?" 

She  passed  over  his  last  question,  for  the  wonder  pierced 
her  if  she  had  not  had  too  much.  "Yes,  really.  I  am 
going  to  change  my  boots.  I  left  them  somewhere  here.  I 
wonder  where  they  are.  Ah,  there  they  are  against  the  rail- 
ing! No,  please  don't!  I  can  manage  quite  well.  I 
would  rather." 

She  sat  down  on  the  bank,  and  bent  her  hot  face  over  her 
task. 

The  two  brothers  remained  near  her.  Scott  was  ap- 
parently waiting  for  her.  They  exchanged  a  few  low 
words. 

"I'll  do  my  level  best,  old  chap,"  she  heard  Scott  say. 
"But  if  I  don't  succeed,  it  can't  be  helped.  Rome  wasn't 
built  in  a  day." 

Eustace  made  an  impatient  sound,  and  muttered  some- 
thing in  a  whisper. 

"No,"  Scott  said  in  answer.  "Not  that!  Never  with 
my  consent.  It  wouldn't  do,  man!  I  tell  you  it  wouldn't 
do.  Can't  you  take  my  word  for  it?" 

"You're  as  obstinate  as  a  mule,  Stumpy,"  his  brother 
said,  in  tones  of  irritation.  "It'll  come  to  it  sooner  or 
later.  You're  only  prolonging  the  agony." 

"I  am  doing  my  best,"  Scott  said  gravely.  "Give  me 
credit  for  that  at  least!" 

Sir  Eustace  clapped  a  sudden  hand  on  his  shoulder.  "  No 
one  doubts  that,  my  boy.  You're  true  gold.  But  it's  sheer 
foolishness  to  go  on  in  the  same  old  way  that's  proved  a 
failure  a  hundred  times.  In  heaven's  name,  now  that 
we've  hauled  her  out  of  that  infernal  groove,  don't  let 


104  Greatheart 

idiotic  sentimentality  spoil  everything!     Don't  shy  at  the 
consequences!     I'll  be  responsible  for  them." 

Dinah  glanced  up.  She  saw  that  for  the  moment  she  was 
forgotten.  The  light  was  shining  upon  Scott's  face,  and 
she  read  in  it  undeniable  perplexity;  but  the  eyes  were 
steadfast  and  wholly  calm. 

He  even  smiled  a  little  as  he  said,  "My  dear  chap,  have 
you  ever  considered  the  consequences  of  anything — counted 
the  cost  before  you  came  to  pay?  No,  never!" 

"Don't  preach  to  me!"  Eustace  said  sharply. 

"No.  I  won't.  But  don't  you  talk  in  that  airy  way 
about  responsibility  to  me!  Because — "  Scott's  smile 
broadened  and  became  openly  affectionate — "it  just  won't 
go  down,  dear  fellow!  I  can't  swallow  camels — never 
could. " 

"You  can  strain  at  gnats  though,"  commented  Sir 
Eustace,  pivoting  round  on  his  skates.  "Well,  you  know 
my  sentiments.  I  haven't  put  my  foot  down  yet.  But 
I'm  going  to — pretty  soon.  It's  got  to  be  done.  And  if 
you  can't  bring  yourself  to  it, — well,  I  shall,  that's  all. " 

He  was  gone  with  the  words,  swift  as  an  arrow,  leaving 
behind  him  a  space  so  empty  that  Dinah  felt  a  sudden 
queer  little  pang  of  desolation. 

Scott  remained  motionless,  deep  in  thought,  for  the 
passage  of  several  seconds.  Then  abruptly  the  conscious- 
ness of  her  presence  came  upon  him,  and  he  turned  to  her. 
She  was  sitting  on  the  bank  looking  up  at  him  with  frank 
interest.  Their  eyes  met. 

And  then  a  very  curious  thing  happened  to  Dinah.  She 
flinched  under  his  look,  flinched  and  averted  her  own.  A 
great  shyness  suddenly  surged  through  her,  a  quivering, 
overmastering  sense  of  embarrassment.  For  in  that 
moment  she  viewed  the  flight  to  Olympus  as  he  would 
have  viewed  it,  and  was  horribly,  overwhelmingly 
ashamed.  She  could  not  break  the  silence.  She  had  no 


Friendship  in  the  Desert  105 

words  to  utter — no  possible  means  at  hand  by  which  to 
cover  her  discomfiture. 

It  was  he  who  spoke,  in  his  voice  a  tinge  of  restraint. 
"I  was  going  to  ask  if  it  would  bore  you  to  come  and 
see  my  sister  again  this  evening.  I  have  obtained  Lady 
Grace's  permission  for  you  to  do  so." 

She  sprang  to  her  feet.  "Of  course — of  course  I  would 
love  to!"  she  said  rather  incoherently.  "How  could  it 
bore  me?  I — I  should  like  it — more  than  anything." 

He  smiled  faintly,  and  held  out  his  hand  for  the  boots 
she  had  just  discarded.  "That  is  more  than  kind  of  you, " 
he  said.  "My  sister  was  afraid  you  might  not  want  to 
come." 

"Of  course  I  want  to  come!"  maintained  Dinah.  "Oh 
no,  thank  you;  I  couldn't  let  you  carry  my  boots.  How 
clever  of  you  to  tackle  Lady  Grace!  What  did  she  say?" 

"Neither  she  nor  the  Colonel  made  any  difficulty  about 
it  at  all,"  Scott  said.  "I  told  them  my  sister  was  an 
invalid.  Lady  Grace  said  that  I  must  not  keep  you  after 
ten,  and  I  promised  I  wouldn't." 

His  manner  was  kindly  and  quizzical,  and  Dinah's 
embarrassment  began  to  pass.  But  he  discomfited  her 
afresh  as  they  walked  across  the  road  by  saying,  "You 
have  made  it  up  with  my  brother,  I  see." 

Dinah's  cheeks  burned  again.  "Yes,"  she  said,  after  a 
moment.  "We  made  it  up  this  afternoon." 

"That  was  very  lucky — for  him,"  observed  Scott  rather 
dryly. 

Dinah  made  a  swift  leap  for  the  commonplace.  "  I  hate 
being  cross  with  people,"  she  said,  "or  to  have  them  cross 
with  me;  don't  you?" 

"  I  think  it  is  sometimes  unavoidable, "  said  Scott  gravely. 

"Oh,  surely  you  are  never  cross!"  said  Dinah  impetu- 
ously. "I  can't  imagine  it." 

"Wait  till  you  see  it!"  said  Scott,  with  a  smile. 


io6  Greatheart 

They  entered  the  hotel  together.  Dinah  was  tingling 
with  excitement.  She  had  managed  to  escape  from  her 
discomfiture,  but  she  still  felt  that  any  prolonged  intercourse 
with  the  man  beside  her  would  bring  it  back.  She  was 
beginning  to  know  Scott  as  one  who  would  not  hesitate  to 
say  exactly  what  he  thought,  and  not  for  all  she  possessed  in 
the  world  would  she  have  had  him  know  what  had  passed  in 
that  far  corner  of  the  rink  so  short  a  time  before. 

She  chattered  inconsequently  upon  ordinary  topics  as 
they  ascended  the  stairs  together,  but  when  they  reached 
the  door  of  Isabel's  sitting-room  she  became  suddenly  shy 
again. 

"Hadn't  I  better  run  and  take  off  my  things?"  she 
whispered.  "  I  feel  so  untidy. " 

He  looked  at  her.  She  was  clad  in  the  white  woollen 
cap  and  coat  that  she  had  worn  in  the  day.  Her  eyes 
were  alight  and  sparkling,  her  brown  face  flushed.  She 
looked  the  very  incarnation  of  youth. 

"I  think  she  will  like  to  see  you  as  you  are,"  said 
Scott. 

He  knocked  upon  the  door  three  times  as  before,  and  in 
a  moment  opened  it. 

"Go  in,  won't  you?"  he  said,  standing  back. 

Dinah  entered. 

"Ah!  She  has  come!"  A  hollow  voice  said,  and  in  a 
moment  her  shyness  was  gone. 

She  moved  forward  eagerly,  saw  Isabel  seated  in  a  low 
chair,  and  impulsively  went  to  her.  "  How  kind  you  are  to 
ask  me  to  come  again!"  she  said. 

And  then  all  in  a  moment  Isabel's  arms  came  out  to  her, 
and  she  slipped  down  upon  her  knees  beside  her  into  their 
close  embrace. 

"  How  kind  of  you  to  come,  dear  child ! "  Isabel  murmured. 
"  I  am  afraid  it  is  a  visit  to  the  desert  for  you. " 

"But  I  love  to  come!"  Dinah  told  her  with  warm  lips 


Friendship  in  the  Desert  107 

raised.  "  I  can't  tell  you  how  much.  I  was  never  so  happy 
before.  Each  day  seems  lovelier  than  the  last." 

Isabel  kissed  her  lingeringly,  tenderly.  "My  dear,  you 
have  a  happy  heart,"  she  said.  "Tell  me  what  you  have 
been  doing  since  I  saw  you  last!" 

She  would  have  let  her  go,  but  Dinah  clung  to  her  still, 
her  cheek  against  her  shoulder.  "I  have  been  very  frivol- 
ous, dear  Mrs.  Everard,"  she  said.  "I  have  done  lots  of 
things.  This  afternoon  we  were  luging,  and  now  I  have  just 
come  from  the  carnival,  I  wish  you  could  have  been 
there.  Some  people  are  wearing  the  most  horrible  masks. 
Billy — my  brother — has  a  beauty.  He  made  it  himself. 
I  rather  wanted  it  to  wear,  but  he  wouldn't  part  with  it." 

"You  could  never  wear  a  mask,  sweetheart,"  Isabel  said, 
clasping  the  small  brown  hand  in  hers.  "Your  face  is  too 
sweet  a  thing  to  hide. " 

Dinah  hugged  her  in  naive  delight.  "  I  always  thought  I 
was  ugly  before,"  she  said. 

Isabel's  face  wore  a  wan  smile.  She  stroked  the  girl's 
soft  cheek.  "  My  dear,  no  one  with  a  heart  like  yours  could 
have  an  ugly  face.  How  did  you  enjoy  your  dance  with 
Eustace  last  night?" 

Dinah  bent  her  head  a  little,  wishing  earnestly  that 
Scott  were  not  in  the  room.  "  I  loved  it, "  she  said  in  a  low 
voice. 

"And  afterwards?"  questioned  Isabel.  "No  one  was 
vexed  with  you,  I  hope?" 

Dinah  hesitated.  "  Colonel  de  Vigne  wasn't  best  pleased, 
I'm  afraid,"  she  said,  after  a  moment. 

"He  scolded  you!"  said  Isabel,  swift  regret  in  her  voice. 
"I  am  so  sorry,  dear  child.  I  ought  to  have  gone  to  look 
after  you.  I  was  selfish. " 

"Oh  no — indeed!"  Dinah  protested.  "It  was  entirely 
my  own  fault.  He  would  have  been  cross  in  any  case. 
They  are  like  that. " 


io8  Greatheart 

Isabel  uttered  a  sigh.  "  I  shall  have  to  try  to  meet  them. 
Naturally  they  will  not  let  you  come  to  total  strangers. 
Stumpy,  remind  me  in  the  morning!'  I  must  manage 
somehow  to  meet  this  child's  guardians." 

"Of  course,  dear,"  said  vScott. 

Dinah,  glancing  towards  him,  saw  him  exchange  a  swift 
look  with  the  old  nurse  in  the  background,  but  his  voice 
held  neither  surprise  nor  gratification.  He  took  out  a 
cigarette  and  began  to  smoke. 

Isabel  leaned  back  in  her  chair  with  abrupt  weariness  as  if 
in  reaction  from  the  strain  of  a  sudden  unwonted  exertion. 
"Let  me  see!  Do  I  know  your  Christian  name?  Ah  yes, 
— Dinah!  What  a  pretty  gipsy  name!  I  think  you  are  a 
little  gipsy,  are  you  not  ?  You  have  the  charm  of  the  woods 
about  you.  Won't  you  sit  in  that  chair,  dear?  You  can't 
be  comfortable  on  the  floor. " 

But  Dinah  preferred  to  sit  down  against  her  knee,  still 
holding  the  slender,  inert  hand. 

"Tell  me  about  your  home!"  Isabel  said,  closing  languid 
eyes.  "  I  can't  talk  much  more,  but  I  can  listen.  It  does 
not  tire  me  to  listen. " 

Dinah  hesitated  somewhat.  "I  don't  think  you  would 
find  it  very  interesting, "  she  said. 

"But  I  am  interested,"  Isabel  said.  "You  live  in  the 
country,  I  think  you  said." 

"At  a  place  called  Perrythorpe, "  Dinah  said.  "It's  a 
great  hunting  country.  My  father  hunts  a  lot  and  shoots 
too." 

"  Do  you  hunt?"  asked  Isabel. 

"Oh  no,  never!  There's  never  any  time.  I  go  for 
rambles  sometimes  on  Sundays.  Other  days  I  am  always 
busy.  Fancy  me  hunting!"  said  Dinah,  with  a  little  laugh. 

"I  used  to,"  said  Isabel.  "They  always  said  I  should 
end  with  a  broken  neck.  But  I  never  did." 

"Are  you  very  fond  of  riding?"  asked  Dinah. 


Friendship  in  the  Desert  109 

"Not  now,  dear.  I  am  not  fond  of  anything  now.  Tell 
me  some  more,  won't  you?  What  makes  you  so  busy  that 
you  never  have  time  for  any  fun?" 

Again  Dinah  hesitated.  "You  see,  we're  poor, "  she  said. 
"  My  mother  and  I  do  all  the  work  of  the  house  and  garden 
too. " 

"And  your  father  is  able  to  hunt ?"  Isabel's  eyes  opened. 
Her  hand  closed  upon  Dinah's  caressingly. 

"Oh  yes,  he  has  always  hunted,"  Dinah  said.  "I  don't 
think  he  could  do  without  it.  He  would  find  it  so  dull." 

"I  see,"  said  Isabel.  "But  he  can't  afford  pleasures  for 
you." 

There  was  no  perceptible  sarcasm  in  her  voice,  but 
Dinah  coloured  a  little  and  went  at  once  to  her  father's 
defence. 

"He  sends  Billy  to  a  public  school.  Of  course  I — being 
only  a  girl — don't  count.  And  he  has  sent  us  out  here, 
which  was  very  good  of  him — the  sweetest  thing  he  has  ever 
done.  He  had  a  lucky  speculation  the  other  day,  and  he  has 
spent  it  nearly  all  on  us.  Wasn't  that  kind  of  him?" 

"Very  kind,  dear,"  said  Isabel  gently.  "How  long  are 
you  to  have  out  here?" 

"Only  three  weeks,  and  half  the  time  is  gone  already," 
sighed  Dinah.  "The  de  Vignes  are  not  staying  longer. 
The  Colonel  is  a  J.  P.,  and  much  too  important  to  stay  away 
for  long.  And  they  are  going  to  have  a  large  house-party. 
There  isn't  much  more  than  a  week  left  now. "  She  sighed 
again. 

"And  then  you  will  have  no  more  fun  at  all?"  asked 
Isabel. 

"Not  a  scrap — nothing  but  work."  Dinah's  voice 
quivered  a  little.  "  I  don't  suppose  it  has  been  very  good 
for  me  coming  out  here, "  she  said.  "  I — I  believe  I'm  much 
too  fond  of  gaiety  really." 

Isabel's  hand  touched  her  cheek.     "Poor  little  girl!" 


1 10  Greatheart 

she  said.  "But  you  wouldn't  like  to  leave  your  mother  to 
do  all  the  drudgery  alone. " 

"Oh  yes,  I  should,"  said  Dinah,  with  a  touch  of  reckless- 
ness. "I'd  never  go  back  if  I  could  help  it.  I  love  Dad  of 
course;  but — "  She  paused. 

"You  don't  love  your  mother?"  supplemented  Isabel. 

Dinah  leaned  her  face  suddenly  against  the  caressing 
hand.  "Not  much,  I'm  afraid,"  she  whispered. 

"Poor  little  girl!"  Isabel  murmured  again  compas- 
sionately. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  PURPLE    EMPRESS 

COLONEL    DE    VIGNE    once   more   wore    his   most 
magisterial  air  when  after  breakfast  on  the  following 
morning  he  drew  Dinah  aside. 

She  looked  at  him  with  swift  apprehension,  even  with  a 
tinge  of  guilt.  His  lecture  of  the  previous  morning  was  still 
fresh  in  her  mind.  Could  he  have  seen  her  on  the  ice  with 
Sir  Eustace  on  the  previous  night,  she  asked  herself?  Surely, 
surely  not ! 

Apparently  he  had,  however;  for  his  first  words  were 
admonitory. 

"Look  here,  young  lady,  you're  making  yourself  con- 
spicuous with  that  three-volume-novel  baronet.  You 
don't  want  to  be  conspicuous,  I  suppose? " 

Her  face  burned  crimson  at  the  question.  Then  he  had 
seen,  or  at  least  he  must  know,  something!  She  stood 
before  him,  too  overwhelmed  for  speech. 

"You  don't,  eh?"  he  insisted,  surveying  her  confusion 
with  grim  relentlessness. 

"Of  course  not!"  she  whispered  at  last. 

He  put  a  hand  on  her  shoulder.  "Very  well  then! 
Don't  let  there  be  any  more  of  it!  You've  been  a 
good  girl  up  till  now  but  the  last  two  days  seem  to 
have  turned  your  head.  I  shan't  be  able  to  give  a  good 
report  to  your  mother  when  we  get  home  if  this  sort  of 
thing  goes  on." 

in 


1 12  Greatheart 

Dinah's  heart  sank  still  lower.  The  thought  of  the  return 
home  had  begun  to  dog  her  like  an  evil  dream. 

With  a  great  effort  she  met  the  Colonel's  stern  gaze.  "I 
am  very  sorry,"  she  faltered.  "But — but  Lady  Grace 
did  say  I  might  go  and  see  Mrs.  Everard — the  invalid 
sister — yesterday . ' ' 

"I  know  she  did.  She  thought  you  had  been  flirting 
with  Sir  Eustace  long  enough." 

Dinah's  sky  began  to  clear  a  little.  "Then  you  don't 
mind  my  going  to  see  her?"  she  said. 

"So  long  as  you  are  not  there  too  often,"  conceded  the 
Colonel."  The  younger  brother  is  a  nice  little  chap.  There 
is  no  danger  of  your  getting  up  to  mischief  with  him." 

Dinah's  face  burned  afresh  at  the  suggestion.  He 
evidently  did  not  actually  know;  but  he  suspected  very 
strongly.  Still  it  was  a  great  relief  to  know  that  all  inter- 
course with  these  wonderful  new  friends  of  hers  was  not  to 
be  barred. 

"There  was  some  talk  of  a  sleigh-drive  this  afternoon," 
she  ventured,  after  a  moment.  "Mr.  Studley  is  taking  his 
sister  and  she  asked  me  to  go  too.  May  I  ? " 

"You  accepted,  I  suppose?"  demanded  the  Colonel. 

"I  said  I  thought  I  might,"  Dinah  admitted.  And 
then  very  suddenly  she  caught  a  kindly  gleam  in  his  eyes, 
and  summoned  courage  for  entreaty.  "Do  please — please 
— let  me  go!"  she  begged,  clasping  his  arm.  "I  shan't 
ever  have  any  fun  again  when  this  is  over." 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  said  the  Colonel  gruffly. 
"Yes,  you  can  go — you  can  go.  But  behave  yourself 
soberly,  there's  a  good  girl.  And  remember — no  running 
after  the  other  fellow  to-night!  I  won't  have  it.  Is  that 
understood?" 

Dinah,  too  rejoiced  over  this  concession  to  trouble  about 
future  prohibitions,  gave  cheerful  acquiescence  to  the 
fiat.  Perhaps  she  was  beginning  to  realize  that  she  would 


The  Purple  Empress  113 

see  quite  as  much  of  Sir  Eustace  as  was  at  all  advisable  or 
even  to  be  desired,  without  running  after  him.  In  fact, 
so  shy  had  the  previous  night's  flight  with  him  made  her, 
that  she  did  not  feel  the  slightest  wish  to  encounter  him 
again  at  present.  To  go  out  sleigh-driving  with  Scott 
and  his  sister  was  all  that  she  asked  of  life  that  day. 

It  was  a  glorious  morning  despite  all  prophecies  of  a 
coming  change,  and  she  spent  it  joyously  luging  with 
Billy.  Sir  Eustace  had  gone  ski-ing  with  Captain  Brent, 
and  the  only  glimpse  she  had  of  him  was  a  very  far  one,  so 
far  that  she  knew  him  only  by  the  magnificence  of  his 
physique  as  he  descended  the  mountain-side  as  one  borne 
upon  wings. 

She  recalled  the  brief  conversation  that  the  brothers 
had  held  in  her  hearing  the  night  before,  and  marvelled  at 
the  memory  of  Scott's  attitude  towards  him. 

"He  isn't  a  bit  afraid  of  him,"  she  reflected.  "In  fact 
he  behaves  exactly  as  if  he  were  the  bigger  of  the  two." 

This  phenomenon  puzzled  her  very  considerably,  for 
Scott  was  wholly  lacking  in  the  pomposity  that  char- 
acterizes many  little  men.  She  wondered  what  had  been 
the  subject  of  their  discussion.  It  had  been  connected 
with  Isabel,  she  felt  sure.  She  was  glad  to  think  that  she 
had  Scott  to  protect  her,  for  there  was  something  of  tyranny 
about  the  elder  brother  from  which  she  shrank  instinctively, 
his  magnetism  notwithstanding,  and  the  thought  of  poor, 
tragic  Isabel  being  coerced  by  it  was  intolerable. 

The  memory  of  the  latter's  resolution  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  the  de  Vignes  recurred  to  her  as  she  and 
Billy  returned  for  luncheon.  Would  she  carry  it  out? 
She  wondered.  The  look  that  Scott  had  flung  at  the  old 
nurse  dwelt  in  her  mind.  It  would  evidently  be  an  extra- 
ordinary move  if  she  did. 

They  reached  the  hotel,  Rose  and  another  girl  had  just 
come  up  from  the  rink  together.  A  little  knot  of  people 


1 14  Greatheart 

were  gathered  on  the  verandah.  Dinah  and  Billy  kept 
behind  Rose  and  her  companion;  but  in  a  moment  Dinah 
heard  her  name. 

The  group  parted,  and  she  saw  Isabel  Everard,  very  tall 
and  stately  in  a  deep  purple  coat,  standing  with  Lady 
Grace  de  Vigne. 

Billy  gave  her  a  push.     "Goon!    They're  calling  you." 

And  Dinah  found  the  strange  sad  eyes  upon  her,  alight 
with  a  smile  of  welcome.  She  went  forward  impetuously, 
and  in  a  moment  Isabel's  cold  hands  were  clasped  upon 
her  warm  ones. 

"I  have  been  waiting  for  you,  dear  child, "  the  low  voice 
said.  "What  have  you  been  doing?" 

Dinah  suddenly  felt  as  if  she  were  standing  in  the  presence 
of  a  princess.  Isabel  in  public  bore  herself  with  a  haughti- 
ness fully  equal  to  that  displayed  by  Sir  Eustace,  and  she 
knew  that  Lady  Grace  was  impressed  by  it. 

"I  would  have  come  back  sooner  if  I  had  known,"  she 
said,  closely  holding  the  long,  slender  fingers. 

"  My  dear,  you  are  woefully  untidy  now  you  have  come," 
murmured  Lady  Grace. 

But  Isabel  gently  freed  one  hand  to  put  her  arm  about 
the  girl.  "To  me  she  is — just  right,"  she  said,  and  in  her 
voice  there  sounded  the  music  of  a  great  tenderness.  "  Youth 
is  never  tidy,  Lady  Grace;  but  there  is  nothing  in  the 
world  like  it." 

Lady  Grace's  eyes  went  to  her  daughter  whose  faultless 
apparel  and  perfection  of  line  were  in  vivid  contrast  to 
Dinah's  harum-scarum  appearance. 

"I  do  not  altogether  agree  with  you  in  that  respect, 
Mrs.  Everard,"  she  said,  with  a  smile.  "I  think  young 
girls  should  always  aim  at  being  presentable.  But  I  quite 
admit  that  it  is  more  difficult  for  some  than  for  others. 
Dinah,  my  dear,  Mrs.  Everard  has  been  kind  enough  to 
ask  you  to  lunch  in  her  sitting-room  with  her,  and  to  go  for  a 


The  Purple  Empress  115 

sleigh-drive  afterward;  so  you  had  better  run  and  get 
respectable  as  quickly  as  you  can." 

"Oh,  how  kind  you  are!"  Dinah  said,  with  earnest  eyes 
uplifted.  "You  know  how  I  shall  love  to  come,  don't 
you?" 

"I  thought  you  might,  dear,"  Isabel  said.  "Scott  is 
coming  to  keep  us  company.  He  has  arranged  for  a  sleigh 
to  be  here  in  an  hour.  We  are  going  for  a  twelve-mile 
round,  so  we  must  not  be  late  starting.  It  gets  so  cold 
after  sundown." 

"I  had  better  go  then,  hadn't  I?"  said  Dinah. 

"I  am  coming  too,"  Isabel  said.  Her  arm  was  still 
about  her.  It  remained  so  as  she  turned  to  go.  "Good- 
bye, Lady  Grace!  I  will  take  great  care  of  the  child. 
Thank  you  for  allowing  her  to  come." 

She  bowed  with  regal  graciousness  and  moved  away, 
taking  Dinah  with  her. 

"Exit  Purple  Empress!"  murmured  a  man  in  the  back- 
ground close  to  Rose.  "Who  on  earth  is  she?  I  haven't 
seen  her  anywhere  before." 

Rose  uttered  her  soft,  artificial  laugh.  "She  is  Sir 
Eustace  Studley's  sister.  Rather  peculiar,  I  believe,  even 
eccentric.  But  I  understand  they  are  of  very  good  birth." 

"That  covers  a  multitude  of  sins,"  he  commented. 
"She's  been  a  mighty  handsome  woman  in  her  day.  She 
must  be  many  years  older  than  Sir  Eustace.  She  looks 
more  like  his  mother  than  his  sister." 

"I  believe  she  is  actually  younger,"  Rose  said.  "They 
say  she  has  never  recovered  from  the  sudden  death  of  her 
husband  some  years  ago,  but  I  know  nothing  of  the 
circumstances." 

"A  very  charming  woman,"  said  Lady  Grace,  joining 
them.  "We  have  had  quite  a  long  chat  together.  Yes, 
her  manner  is  a  little  strange,  slightly  abstracted,  as  if  she 
were  waiting  for  something  or  someone.  But  a  very  easy 


n6  Greatheart 

companion  on  the  whole.  I  think  you  will  like  her,  Rose 
dear." 

"She's  dead  nuts  on  Dinah,"  observed  Billy  with  a 
chuckle.  "She  don't  look  at  anyone  else  when  she's  got 
Dinah." 

Lady  Grace  smiled  over  his  head  and  took  no  verbal 
notice  of  the  remark. 

"They  are  a  distinguished-looking  family,"  she  said. 
"Run  and  wash  your  hands,  Billy!  Are  you  thinking  of 
ski-ing  this  afternoon,  Rose?" 

"You -bet!"  murmured  Billy,  under  his  breath.  He  too 
had  seen  the  distant  figure  of  Sir  Eustace  on  the  mountain- 
side. 

"It  depends,"  said  Rose,  non-committally. 

"  Captain  Brent  and  Sir  Eustace  have  been  on  skis  all  the 
morning, "  said  her  mother.  "We  must  see  what  they  say 
about  it." 

Billy  spun  a  coin  into  the  air  behind  her  back.  "Heads 
Sir  Eustace  and  tails  Captain  Brent, "  he  muttered  to  the 
man  who  had  commented  upon  Isabel's  beauty.  "Heads 
it  is!" 

Lady  Grace  turned  round  with  a  touch  of  sharpness  at 
the  sound  of  his  companion's  laugh.  "Billy!  Did  I  not 
tell  you  to  go  and  wash  your  hands?" 

Billy's  green  eyes  smiled  impudent  acknowledgment. 
"You  did,  Lady  Grace.  And  I'm  going.  Good-bye!" 

He  pocketed  the  coin,  winked  at  his  friend,  and  departed 
whistling. 

"A  very  unmannerly  little  boy!"  observed  Lady  Grace, 
with  severity.  "Come,  my  dear  Rose!  We  must  go  in." 

"I  don't  like  either  the  one  or  the  other,"  said  Rose, 
with  a  very  unusual  touch  of  petulance.  "They  are 
always  in  the  way." 

"  I  fully  agree  with  you, "  said  Lady  Grace  acidly.  "  But 
it  is  for  the  first  and  last  time  in  their  lives.  I  have  already 


The  Purple  Empress  117 

told  the  Colonel  so.     He  will  never  ask  them  to  accompany 
us  again." 

"Thank  goodness  for  that!"  said  Rose,  with  restored 
amiability.     "Of  course  I  am  sorry  for  poor  little  Dinah; 
but  there  is  a  limit." 
L"  Which  is  very  nearly  reached, "  said  Lady  Grace. 


CHAPTER    XV 

THE   MOUNTAIN   CREST 

HPHAT  sleigh-drive  was  to  Dinah  the  acme  of  delight, 
1  and  for  ever  after  the  jingle  of  horse-bells  was  to 
recall  it  to  her  mind.  The  sight  of  the  gay  red  trappings, 
the  trot  of  the  muffled  hoofs,  the  easy  motion  of  the  sleigh 
slipping  over  the  white  road,  and  above  all,  Isabel,  clad 
in  purple  and  seated  beside  her,  a  figure  of  royal  distinction, 
made  a  picture  in  her  mind  that  she  was  never  to  forget. 
She  rode  in  a  magic  chariot  through  wonderland. 

She  longed  to  delay  the  precious  moments  as  they  flew, 
like  a  child  chasing  butterflies  in  the  sunshine ;  but  they  only 
seemed  to  fly  the  faster.  She  chattered  almost  incessantly 
for  the  first  few  miles,  and  occasionally  Isabel  smiled  and 
answered  her;  but  for  the  most  part  it  was  Scott,  seated 
opposite,  who  responded  to  her  raptures, — Scott,  unfailingly 
attentive  and  courteous,  but  ever  watchful  of  his  sister's 
face. 

She  gazed  straight  ahead  when  she  was  not  looking  at 
anything  to  which  Dinah  called  her  attention.  Her  eyes 
had  the  intense  look  of  one  who  watches  perpetually  for 
something  just  out  of  sight. 

Quiet  but  alert,  he  marked  her  attitude,  marked  also  the 
emaciation  which  was  so  painfully  apparent  in  the  strong 
eunshine  and  formed  so  piteous  a  contrast  to  the  vivid 
youth  of  the  girl  beside  her.  Presently  Dinah  came  out  of 
her  rhapsodies  and  observed  his  vigilance.  She  watched 

IKS 


The  Mountain  Crest  119 

him  covertly  for  a  time  while  she  still  chatted  on.  And  she 
noted  that  there  were  very  weary  lines  about  his  eyes,  lines 
of  anxiety,  lines  of  sleeplessness,  that  filled  her  warm  heart 
with  quick  sympathy  and  a  longing  to  help. 

The  road  was  one  of  wild  beauty.  It  wound  up  a  desolate 
mountain  pass  along  which  great  black  boulders  were 
scattered  haphazard  like  the  mighty  toys  of  a  giant.  The 
glittering  snow  lay  all  around  them,  making  their  nakedness 
the  more  apparent.  And  far,  far  above,  the  white  crags 
shone  with  a  dazzling  purity  in  the  sunlit  air. 

Below  them  the  snow  lay  untrodden,  exquisitely  pure, 
piled  here  in  great  drifts,  falling  away  there  in  wonderful 
curves  and  hollows,  but  always  showing  a  surface  perfect 
and  undesecrated  by  any  human  touch.  And  ever  the 
sleigh  ran  smoothly  on  over  the  white  road  till  it  seemed 
to  Dinah  as  if  they  moved  in  a  dream.  She  fell  silent, 
charmed  by  the  swift  motion,  and  by  the  splendour  around 
her. 

"You  are  quite  warm,  I  hope?"  Scott  said,  after  an 
interval. 

She  was  wrapped  in  a  fur  cloak  belonging  to  Isabel. 
She  smiled  an  affirmative,  but  she  saw  him  as  through  a  veil. 
The  mystery  and  the  wonder  of  creation  filled  her  soul. 

"I  feel,"  she  said,  "I  feel  as  if  we  were  being  taken 
up  into  heaven." 

"Oh,  that  we  were ! "  said  Isabel,  speaking  suddenly  with  a 
force  that  had  in  it  something  terrible.  "  Do  you  see  those 
golden  peaks,  sweetheart?  That  is  where  I  would  be. 
That  is  where  the  gates  of  Heaven  open — where  the  lost 
are  found." 

Dinah's  hand  was  clasped  in  hers  under  the  fur  rug, 
and  she  felt  the  thin  fingers  close  with  a  convulsive  hold. 

Scott  leaned  forward.  "Heaven  is  nearer  to  us  than 
that,  Isabel,"  he  said  gently. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment,  but  her  eyes  at  once 


I2O  Greatheart 

passed  beyond.  "No,  no,  Stumpy!  You  never  under- 
stand," she  said  restlessly.  "I  must  reach  the  mountain- 
tops  or  die.  I  am  tired — I  am  tired  of  my  prison.  And  I 
stifle  in  the  valley — I  who  have  watched  the  sun  rise  and 
set  from  the  very  edge  of  the  world.  Why  did  they  take 
me  away?  If  I  had  only  waited  a  little  longer — a  little 
longer — as  he  told  me  to  wait!"  Her  voice  suddenly  vi- 
brated with  a  craving  that  was  passionate.  "He  would 
have  come  with  the  next  sunrise.  I  always  knew  that  the 
dawn  would  bring  him  back  to  me.  But" — dull  despair 
took  the  place  of  longing — "they  took  me  away,  and  the 
sun  has  never  shone  since." 

' '  Isabel ! ' '  Scott's  voice  was  very  grave  and  quiet.  ' '  Miss 
Bathurst  will  wonder  what  you  mean.  Don't  forget  her!" 

Dinah  pressed  close  to  her  friend's  side.  "Oh,  but  I 
do  understand ! "  she  said  softly.  "And,  dear  Mrs.  Everard, 
I  wish  I  could  help  you.  But  I  think  Mr.  Studley  must  be 
right.  It  is  easier  to  get  to  heaven  than  to  climb  those 
mountain-peaks.  They  are  so  very  steep  and  far  away." 

"So  is  Heaven,  child,"  said  Isabel,  with  a  sigh  of  great 
weariness. 

As  it  were  with  reluctance,  she  again  met  the  steady 
gaze  of  Scott's  eyes,  and  gradually  her  mood  seemed  to 
change.  Her  brief  animation  dropped  away  from  her;  she 
became  again  passive,  inert,  save  that  she  still  seemed  to  be 
watching. 

Scott  broke  the  silence,  kindly  and  practically.  "We 
ought  to  reach  the  chalet  at  the  head  of  the  pass  soon, "  he 
said.  "You  will  be  glad  of  some  tea." 

"Oh,  are  we  going  to  stop  for  tea?"  said  Dinah. 

"That's  the  idea,"  said  Scott.  "And  then  back  by 
another  way.  We  ought  to  get  a  good  view  of  the  sunset. 
I  hope  it  won't .  be  misty,  but  they  say  a  change  is 
coming." 

"I   hope  it   won't   come   yet,"   said   Dinah   fervently. 


The  Mountain  Crest  121 

"The  last  few  days  have  been  so  perfect.  And  there  is  so 
little  time  left." 

Scott  smiled.  "That  is  the  worst  of  perfection,"  he 
said .  "It  never  lasts . ' ' 

Dinah's  eyes  were  wistful.  "It  will  go  on  being  perfect 
here  long  after  we  have  left, "  she  said.  "Isn't  it  dreadful 
to  think  of  all  the  good  things — all  the  beauty — one  misses 
just  because  one  isn't  there?" 

"It  would  be  if  there  were  nothing  else  to  think  of," 
said  Scott.  "But  there  is  beauty  everywhere — if  we 
know  how  to  look  for  it." 

She  looked  at  him  uncertainly.  "I  never  knew  what  it 
meant  before  I  came  here, "  she  told  him  shyly.  "There  is 
no  time  for  beautiful  things  in  my  life.  It's  very,  very 
drab  and  ugly.  And  I  am  very  discontented.  I  have 
never  been  anything  else." 

Her  voice  quivered  a  little  as  she  made  the  confession. 
Scott's  eyes  were  so  kind,  so  full  of  friendly  understanding. 
Isabel  had  dropped  out  of  their  intercourse  as  completely  as 
though  her  presence  had  been  withdrawn.  She  lay  back 
against  her  cushions,  but  her  eyes  were  still  watching, 
watching  incessantly. 

"I  think  the  very  dullest  life  can  be  made  beautiful," 
Scott  said,  after  a  moment.  "Even  the  desert  sand  is  gold 
when  the  sun  shines  on  it.  The  trouble  is, —  "  he  laughed  a 
little — "to  get  the  sun  to  shine." 

Dinah  leaned  forward  eagerly,  confidentially.  "Yes?" 
she  questioned. 

He  looked  her  suddenly  straight  in  the  eyes.  "There  is 
a  great  store  of  sunshine  in  you,"  he  said.  "One  can't 
come  near  you  without  feeling  it.  Isabel  will  tell  you  the 
same.  Do  you  keep  it  only  for  the  Alps?  If  so, — "  he 
paused. 

Dinah's  face  flushed  suddenly  under  his  look.  "If  so?" 
she  asked,  under  her  breath. 


122  Greatheart 

He  smiled.  "Well,  it  seems  a  pity,  that's  all,"  he  said. 
"Rather  a  waste  too  when  you  come  to  think  of  it." 

Dinah's  eyes  caught  the  reflection  of  his  smile.  "I  shall 
remember  that,  Mr.  Greatheart,"  she  said. 

"Forgive  me  for  preaching!"  said  Scott. 

She  put  out  a  hand  to  him  quickly,  spontaneously.  "  You 
don't  preach — and  it  does  me  good,"  she  said  somewhat 
incoherently.  "Please — always — say  what  you  like  to 
me!" 

"At  risk  of  hurting  you ? "  said  Scott.  He  held  the  small, 
impulsive  hand  a  moment  and  let  it  go. 

"You  could  never  hurt  me,"  Dinah  answered.  "You 
are  far  too  kind." 

"I  think  the  kindness  is  on  your  side,"  he  answered 
gravely.  "Most  people  of  my  acquaintance  would  think 
me  a  bore — if  nothing  worse." 

"Most  people  have  never  really  met  you,  Stumpy,"  said 
Isabel  unexpectedly.  "Dinah  is  one  of  the  privileged  few, 
and  I  am  glad  she  appreciates  it." 

"Good  heavens ! "  said  Scott,  flushing  a  deep  red.  "Spare 
me,  Isabel!" 

Dinah  broke  into  her  gay,  infectious  laugh.  "Please — 
please  don't  be  upset  about  it!  I'm  glad  I'm  one  of  the 
few.  I've  felt  you  were  a  prince  in  disguise  all  along." 

"Very  much  in  disguise!"  protested  Scott.     "Remove 
that,  and  there  would  be  nothing  left." 
-  "Except  a  man,"  said  Isabel.     "You  can't  get  away, 
Stumpy.     You're  caught." 

A  fleeting  smile  crossed  her  face  like  a  gleam  of  light 
and  was  gone.  She  turned  her  look  upon  Dinah,  and 
became  silent  again. 

Scott,  much  disconcerted,  hunted  in  every  pocket  for 
his  cigarette-case.  "  You  don't  mind  my  smoking,  I  hope  ? ' ' 
he  murmured. 

"I  like  it,"  said  Dinah.     "Let  me  help  you  light  up!" 


The  Mountain  Crest  123 

She  made  a  screen  with  her  hands,  and  guarded  the 
flame  from  the  draught. 

He  thanked  her  courteously,  recovering  his  composure 
with  a  smile  that  was  not  without  self-ridicule,  and  in  a 
moment  they  were  talking  again  upon  impersonal  matters. 
But  the  episode,  slight  though  it  was,  dwelt  in  Dinah's  mind 
thereafter  with  an  odd  persistence.  She  felt  as  if  Isabel 
had  given  her  a  flashlight  glimpse  of  something  which 
otherwise  she  would  scarcely  have  realized.  In  that 
single  fleeting  moment  of  revelation  she  had  seen  that 
which  no  vision  of  knight  in  shining  armour  could  have 
surpassed. 

They  reached  the  chalet  at  the  top  of  the  pass,  and  de- 
scended for  tea.  The  windows  looked  right  down  the  snow- 
clad  valley  up  which  they  had  come.  The  sun  had  begun 
to  sink,  and  the  greater  part  of  it  lay  in  shadow. 

Far  away,  rising  out  of  the  shadows,  all  golden  amid 
floating  mists,  was  a  mighty  mountain  crest,  higher  than  all 
around.  The  sun-rays  lighted  up  its  wondrous  peaks. 
The  glory  of  it  was  unearthly,  almost  more  than  the  eye 
could  bear. 

Dinah  stood  on  the  little  wooden  verandah  of  the  chalet 
and  gazed  and  gazed  till  the  splendour  nearly  blinded  her. 

"Still  watching  the  Delectable  Mountains?"  said  Scott's 
voice  at  her  shoulder. 

She  made  a  little  gesture  in  response.  She  could  not 
take  her  eyes  off  the  wonder. 

He  came  and  stood  beside  her  in  mute  sympathy  while  he 
finished  his  cigarette.  There  was  a  certain  depression  in  his 
attitude  of  which  presently  she  became  aware.  She  sum- 
moned her  resolution  and  turned  herself  from  the  great 
vision  that  so  drew  her. 

He  was  leaning  against  a  post  of  the  verandah,  and  she 
read  again  in  his  attitude  the  weariness  that  she  had  marked 
earlier  in  the  afternoon. 


124  Greatheart 

"Are  you — troubled  about  your  sister?"  she  asked  him 
diffidently. 

He  threw  away  the  end  of  his  cigarette  and  straightened 
himself.  "Yes,  I  am  troubled,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 
"I  am  afraid  it  was  a  mistake  to  bring  her  here." 

"I  thought  her  looking  better  this  morning,"  Dinah 
ventured. 

His  grey  eyes  met  hers.  "  Did  you?  I  thought  it  a  good 
sign  that  she  should  make  the  effort  to  speak  to  strangers. 
But  I  am  not  certain  now  that  it  has  done  her  any  good. 
We  brought  her  here  to  wake  her  from  her  lethargy.  Eustace 
thought  the  air  would  work  wonders,  but — I  am  not  sure. 
It  is  certainly  waking  her  up.  But — to  what?" 

His  eyelids  drooped  heavily,  and  he  passed  his  hand 
across  his  forehead  with  a  gesture  that  went  to  her  heart. 

"It's  rather  soon  to  judge,  isn't  it?"  she  said. 

"Yes,"  he  admitted.  "But  there  is  a  change  in  her; 
there  is  an  undoubted  change.  She  gets  hardly  any  rest, 
and  the  usual  draught  at  night  scarcely  takes  effect.  Of 
course  the  place  is  noisy.  That  may  have  something  to 
do  with  it.  My  brother  is  very  anxious  to  put  a  stop  to  the 
sleeping-draught  altogether.  But  I  can't  agree  to  that. 
She  has  never  slept  naturally  since  her  loss — never  slept 
and  never  wept.  Biddy — the  old  nurse — declares  if  she 
could  only  cry,  all  would  come  right.  But  I  don't  know — 
I  don't  know." 

He  uttered  a  deep  sigh,  and  leaned  once  more  upon  the 
balustrade. 

Dinah  came  close  to  him,  her  sweet  face  full  of  concern. 
"Mr.  Studley,"  she  murmured,  "you — you  don't  think  I  do 
her  any  harm,  do  you?" 

"You ! "  He  gave  a  start  and  looked  at  her  with  that  in 
his  eyes  that  reassured  her  in  a  moment.  "My  dear  child, 
no!  You  are  a  perfect  godsend  to  her — and  to  me  also,  if 
you  don't  mind  my  saying  so.  No — no!  The  mischief 


The  Mountain  Crest  125 

that  I  fear  will  probably  develop  after  you  have  gone.  As 
long  as  you  are  here,  I  am  not  afraid  for  her.  Yours  is 
just  the  sort  of  influence  that  she  needs." 

"Oh,  thank  you!"  Dinah  said  gratefully.  "I  was  afraid 
just  for  a  moment,  because  I  know  I  have  been  silly  and 
flighty.  I  try  to  be  sober  when  I  am  with  her,  but 

"  Don't  try  to  be  anything  but  yourself,  Miss  Bathurst!" 
he  said.  "I  have  confided  in  you  just  because  you  are 
yourself;  and  I  wouldn't  have  you  any  different  for  the 
world.  You  help  her  just  by  being  yourself." 

Dinah  laughed  while  she  shook  her  head.  "  I  wish  I  were 
as  nice  as  you  seem  to  think  I  am." 

He  laughed  also.  "Perhaps  you  have  never  realized  how 
nice  you  really  are, "  he  returned  with  a  simplicity  equal 
to  her  own.  "Ah!  Here  comes  Isabel!  I  expect  she  is 
ready.  We  had  better  go  in." 

They  met  her  as  they  turned  inwards.  The  reflection  of 
the  sunset  glory  was  in  her  face  recalling  some  of  its  faded 
beauty.  She  took  Dinah's  arm,  looking  at  her  with  a 
strangely  wistful  smile. 

"I  want  you  now,  sweetheart,"  she  said.  "Scott  can 
have  his  turn — afterwards." 

"I  want  you  too,"  said  Dinah  instantly,  squeezing  her 
hand  very  closely.  "Come  and  look  at  the  mountains! 
They  are  so  glorious  now  that  the  sun  is  setting." 

They  turned  back  for  a  few  moments  and  Isabel's  eyes 
went  to  that  far  and  wonderful  mountain  crest.  The  gold 
was  turning  to  rose.  The  glory  deepened  even  as  they 
watched. 

"The  peaks  of  Paradise,"  breathed  Dinah  softly. 

Isabel  was  silent  for  a  space,  her  eyes  fixed  and  yearning. 
Then  at  length  in  a  low  voice  that  thrilled  with  an  emotion 
beyond  words  she  spoke. 

"  I  know  now  where  to  look.  That  is  where  he  is  waiting 
for  me.  That  is  where  I  shall  find  him." 


126  Greatheart 

And  then  swiftly  she  turned,  aware  of  her  brother  close 
behind  her. 

He  looked  at  her  with  eyes  of  deep  compassion.  "Some 
day,  Isabel!"  he  said  gently. 

She  made  a  swift  gesture  as  of  one  who  brushes  aside 
every  hindrance.  ' '  Soon ! ' '  she  said.  ' '  Very  soon ! ' ' 

Scott's  eyes  met  Dinah's  for  a  single  instant,  and  she 
thought  they  held  suffering  as  well  as  weariness.  But  they 
fell  immediately.  He  stood  back  in  silence  for  them  to  pass. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE    SECOND   DRAUGHT 

THEY  returned  to  the  hotel  by  a  circuitous  route^that 
brought  them  by  a  mountain-road  into  the  village 
just  below  the  hotel.  The  moon  was  rising  as  they  ascended 
the  final  slope.  The  chill  of  mist  was  in  the  air. 

Sir  Eustace  was  waiting  for  them  in  the  porch.  He 
helped  his  sister  to  alight,  but  she  went  by  him  at  once 
with  a  rapt  look  as  though  she  had  not  seen  him.  She  had 
sat  in  almost  unbroken  silence  throughout  the  homeward 
drive. 

Dinah  would  have  followed  her  in,  but  Sir  Eustace  held 
her  back  a  moment.  "There  is  to  be  a  dance  to-night,"  he 
murmured  in  her  ear.  "  May  I  count  on  you? " 

She  looked  at  him,  the  ecstasy  of  the  mountains  still 
shining  in  her  starry  eyes.  "Yes — yes!  If  I  am  allowed !" 
And  then,  with  a  sudden  memory  of  her  promise  to  the 
Colonel,  "But  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  be.  And  I  haven't 
anything  to  wear  except  my  fancy  dress." 

"What  of  that ? "  he  said  lightly.  "Call  the  fairies  in  to 
help!" 

She  laughed,  and  ran  in. 

Not  for  a  moment  did  she  suppose  that  she  would  be 
allowed  to  dance  that  night;  but  it  seemed  that  luck  was 
with  her,  for  the  first  person  she  met  was  the  Colonel,  and 
he  was  looking  so  particularly  well  pleased  with  himself  and 
affairs  in  general  that  she  stopped  to  tell  him  of  her  drive. 

127 


128  Greatheart 

"It's  been  so  perfect,"  she  said.  "I  have  enjoyed  it! 
Thank  you  ever  so  many  times  for  letting  me  go ! " 

Her  flushed  and  happy  face  was  very  fair  to  see,  and 
the  Colonel  smiled  upon  her  with  fatherly  kindness. 
He  could  not  help  liking  the  child.  She  was  such  a 
taking  imp! 

"Glad  you've  had  a  good  time,"  he  said.  "I  hope  you 
thanked  your  friends  for  taking  you." 

"I  should  think  I  did!"  laughed  Dinah;  and  then  seeing 
that  his  expression  was  so  benignant  she  slipped  an  in- 
gratiating hand  through  his  arm.  "Colonel,  please — please 
— may  I  dance  to-night?" 

' '  What  ? ' '  He  looked  at  her  searchingly ,  with  a  somewhat 
laboured  attempt  to  be  severe.  "Now — now — who  do 
you  want  to  dance  with?" 

"Anyone  or  no  one, "  said  Dinah  boldly.  "I  feel  happy 
enough  to  dance  by  myself." 

"That  means  you're  in  a  mischievous  mood,"  said  the 
Colonel. 

"It's  only  a  Cinderella  affair,"  pleaded  Dinah.  "To- 
morrow's Sunday,  you  know.  There'll  be  no  dancing  to- 
morrow." 

"And  a  good  thing  too,"  he  commented.  "A  pity 
'Sunday  doesn't  come  oftener!  What  will  Lady  Grace  say, 
I  wonder?" 

"But  Rose  is  sure  to  dance, "  urged  Dinah. 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,  Sir  Eustace  Studley  has  been 
teaching  her  to  ski  all  the  afternoon,  and  if  she  isn't  tired, 
she  ought  to  be." 

"Oh,  lucky  Rose!"  Dinah  knew  an  instant's  envy. 
"But  I  expect  she'll  dance  all  the  same.  And — and — I 
may  dance  with  him — just  once,  mayn't  I  ?  There  couldn't 
be  any  harm  in  just  one  dance.  No  one  would  notice  that, 
would  they?" 

She  pressed  close  to  the  Colonel  with  her  petition,  and 


The  Second  Draught  129 

he  found  it  hard  to  refuse.  She  made  it  with  so  childlike  an 
earnestness,  and — all  his  pomposity  notwithstanding — he 
had  a  soft  heart  for  children. 

"There,  be  off  with  you!"  he  said.  "Yes,  you  may  give 
him  one  dance  if  he  asks  for  it.  But  only  one,  mind! 
That's  a  bargain,  is  it?" 

Dinah  beamed  radiant  acquiescence.  "I'll  save  all  the 
rest  for  you.  You're  a  dear  to  let  me,  and  I'll  be  ever  so 
good.  Good-bye!" 

She  went,  flitting  like  a  butterfly  up  the  stairs,  and 
the  Colonel  smiled  in  spite  of  himself  as  he  watched  her  go. 
' '  Little  witch ! "  he  muttered.  ' '  I  wonder  what  your  mother 
would  say  to  you  if  she  knew." 

Dinah  raced  breathless  to  her  room,  and  began  a  fevered 
toilet.  It  was  true  that  she  possessed  nothing  suitable  for 
ballroom  wear;  but  then  the  dance  was  to  be  quite  informal, 
and  she  was  too  happy  to  fret  herself  over  that  fact.  She 
put  on  the  white  muslin  frock  which  she  had  worn  for 
dinner  ever  since  she  had  been  with  the  de  Vignes.  It 
gave  her  a  fairylike  daintiness  that  had  a  charm  of  its  own 
of  which  she  was  utterly  unconscious.  Perhaps  fortu- 
nately, she  had  no  time  to  think  of  her  appearance.  When 
she  descended  again,  her  eyes  were  still  shining  with  a 
happiness  so  obvious  that  Billy,  meeting  her,  exclaimed, 
"What  have  you  got  to  be  so  cheerful  about?" 

She  proceeded  to  tell  him  of  the  glorious  afternoon  she 
had  spent,  and  was  still  in  the  midst  of  her  description 
when  Sir  Eustace  came  up  and  joined  them. 

"I  thought  you  would  manage  it, "  he  said,  with  smiling 
assurance.  "And  now  how  many  may  I  have?  All  the 
waltzes?" 

Dinah's  laugh  rang  so  gaily  that  several  heads  were 
turned  in  her  direction,  and  she  smothered  it  in  alarm. 

"I  can  only  give  you  one,"  she  said,  with  a  great  effort 
at  sobriety. 


130  Greatheart 

"What?  Oh,  nonsense!"  he  protested,  his  blue  eyes 
dominating  hers.  "You  couldn't  be  so  shabby  as  that!" 

Dinah's  chin  pointed  merrily  upwards.  The  situation 
had  its  humour.  It  was  certainly  rather  amusing  to  elude 
him.  She  knew  he  had  caught  her  far  too  easily  the  night 
before. 

"It's  all  I  have  to  offer,  "  she  declared. 

"Meaning  you're  not  going  to  dance  more  than  one 
dance?"  he  asked. 

She  opened  her  laughing  eyes  wide.  ' '  Why  should  it  mean 
that?  You're  not  the  only  man  in  the  room,  are  you?" 

Sir  Eustace's  jaw  set  itself  suddenly  after  a  fashion  that 
made  him  look  formidable,  albeit  he  laughed  back  at  her 
with  his  eyes.  ' '  All  right — Daphne, "  he  murmured.  ' '  I'll 
have  the  first." 

Dinah's  heart  gave  a  little  throb  of  apprehension,  but 
she  quieted  it  impatiently.  What  had  she  to  fear?  She 
nodded  and  lightly  turned  away. 

All  through  dinner  she  alternately  dreaded  and  longed 
for  the  moment  of  his  coming  to  claim  that  dance  from  her. 
That  haughty  confidence  of  his  had  struck  a  curious  chord 
in  her  soul,  and  the  suspense  was  almost  unbearable. 

She  noticed  that  Rose  was  very  serene  and  smiling,  and 
she  regarded  her  complacency  with  growing  resentment. 
Rose  could  dance  as  often  as  she  liked  with  him,  and  no  one 
would  find  fault.  Rose  had  had  him  all  to  herself  through- 
out the  afternoon  moreover.  She  knew  very  well  that  had 
the  ski-ing  lesson  been  offered  to  her,  she  would  not  have 
been  allowed  to  avail  herself  of  it. 

A  wicked  little  spirit  awoke  within  her.  Why  should 
she  always  be  kept  thus  in  the  background?  Surely  her 
right  to  the  joys  of  life  was  as  great  as — if  not  greater  than 
— Rose's!  With  her  it  would  all  end  so  soon,  while  Rose 
had  the  whole  of  her  youth  before  her  like  a  pleasant  garden 
in  which  she  might  wander  or  rest  at  will. 


The  Second  Draught  131 

Dinah  began  to  feel  feverish.  It  seemed  so  imperative 
that  she  should  miss  nothing  good  during  this  brief,  brief 
time  of  happiness  vouchsafed  her  by  the  gods. 

Her  frame  of  mind  when  she  entered  the  ballroom  was 
curious.  Mutiny  and  doubt,  longing  and  dread,  warred 
strangely  together.  But  the  moment  he  came  to  her.  the 
moment  she  felt  his  arm  about  her,  rapture  came  and  drove 
out  all  beside.  She  drank  again  of  the  wine  of  the  gods, 
drank  deeply,  giving  herself  up  to  it  without  reservation, 
too  eager  to  catch  every  drop  thereof  to  trouble  as  to  what 
might  follow. 

He  caught  her  mood.  Possibly  it  was  but  the  comple- 
ment of  his  own.  Freely  he  interpreted  it,  feeling  her  body 
throb  in  swift  accord  to  every  motion,  aware  of  the  almost 
passionate  surrender  of  her  whole  being  to  the  delight  of 
that  one  magic  dance.  She  was  reckless,  and  he  was 
determined.  If  this  were  to  be  all,  he  would  take  his  fill 
at  once,  and  she  should  have  hers.  Before  the  dance  was 
more  than  half  through,  he  guided  her  out  of  the  labyrinth 
into  the  darkly  curtained  recess  that  led  out  to  the  verandah, 
and  there  holding  her,  before  she  so  much  as  realized  that 
they  had  ceased  to  dance,  he  gathered  her  suddenly  and 
fiercely  to  him  and  covered  her  startled,  quivering  face 
with  kisses. 

She  made  no  outcry,  attempted  no  resistance.  He  had 
been  too  sudden  for  that.  His  mastery  was  too  absolute. 
Holding  her  fast  in  the  gloom,  he  took  what  he  would,  till 
with  a  little  sob  her  arms  clasped  his  neck  and  she  clung  to 
him,  giving  herself  wholly  up  to  him. 

But  when  his  hold  relaxed  at  last,  she  hid  her  face  panting 
against  his  breast.  He  smoothed  the  dark  hair  with  a 
possessive  touch,  laughing  softly  at  her  agitation. 

"Did  you  think  you  could  get  away  from  me,  you  brown 
elf  ? "  he  whispered. 

"I — I  could  if  I  tried, "  she  whispered  back. 


132  Greatheart 

His  hold  tightened  again.     "Try!"  he  said. 

She  shook  her  head 'without  lifting  it.  "No,"  she 
murmured,  with  a  shy  laugh.  "I  don't  want  to.  Shan't 
we  go  back — and  dance — before — before — '  She  broke 
off  in  confusion. 

"Before  what?"  he  said. 

She  made  a  motion  to  turn  her  face  upwards,  but,  finding 
his  still  close,  buried  it  a  little  deeper.  "I — promised  the 
Colonel — I'd  be  good,"  she  faltered  into  his  shoulder.  "I 
think  I  ought  to  begin — soon;  don't  you?" 

"Is  that  why  I  am  to  have  only  this  one  dance?"  he 
asked. 

"Yes, "  she  admitted. 

His  caressing  hand  found  and  lightly  pressed  her  cheek. 
"What  are  you  going  to  do  when  it's  over?"  he  asked. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "There's  Bill}7.  I  may 
dance  with  him." 

He  laughed.  "That's  an  exciting  programme.  Shall 
I  tell  you  what  I  should  do — if  I  were  in  your  place? " 

"What?"  said  Dinah. 

Again  she  raised  her  face  a  few  inches  and  again,  catching 
a  glimpse  of  the  compelling  blue  eyes,  plunged  it  deeply 
into  his  coat. 

He  laughed  again  softly,  with  a  hint  of  mockery.  "I 
should  have  one  dance  with  Billy,  and  one  with  the  omni- 
potent Colonel.  And  then  I  should  be  tired  and  say  good 
night." 

"But  I  shan't  be  a  bit  tired,"  protested  Dinah,  faintly 
indignant. 

"Of  course  not,"  laughed  Sir  Eustace.  "You  will  be 
just  ripe  for  a  little  fun.  There's  quite  a  cosy  sitting-out 
place  at  the  end  of  our  corridor.  I  should  go  to  bed  via 
that  route." 

"Oh!"  said  Dinah,  with  a  gasp. 

She  lifted  her  head  in  astonishment,  and  met  the  eyes 


The  Second  Draught  133 

that  so  thrilled  her.  "But — but  that  would  be  wrong!" 
she  said. 

"I've  done  naughtier  things  than  that,  my  virtuous 
sprite,"  he  said. 

But  Dinah  did  not  laugh.  Very  suddenly  quite  unbidden 
there  flashed  across  her  the  memory  of  Scott's  look  the  night 
before  and  her  own  overwhelming  confusion  beneath  it. 
What  would  her  friend  Mr.  Greatheart  say  to  such  a  pro- 
posal? What  would  he  say  could  he  see  her  now?  The 
hot  blood  rushed  to  her  face  at  the  bare  thought.  She 
drew  herself  away  from  him.  Her  rapture  was  gone;  she 
was  burningly  ashamed.  The  Colonel's  majestic  displea- 
sure was  as  nothing  in  comparison  with  Scott's  wordless 
disapproval. 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  do  that,"  she  said.  "I— couldn't.  I 
ought  not  to  be  here  with  you  now." 

"My  fault,"  he  said  easily.  "I  brought  you  here  before 
you  knew  where  you  were.  If  you  go  to  confession,  you 
can  mention  that  as  an  extenuating  circumstance." 

"Oh,  don't!"  said  Dinah,  inexplicably  stung  by  his 
manner.  "  It — it  isn't  nice  of  you  to  talk  like  that." 

He  put  out  his  hand  and  touched  her  arm  lightly,  persua- 
sively. "Then  you  are  angry  with  me?"  he  said. 

Her  resentment  melted.  She  threw  him  a  fleeting  smile. 
"  No — no !  But  how  could  you  imagine  I  could  tell  anyone  ? 
You  didn't  seriously — you  couldn't!" 

"There  isn't  much  to  tell,  is  there?"  he  said,  his  fingers 
closing  gently  over  the  soft  roundness  of  her  arm.  "And 
you  don't  like  that  plan  of  mine?" 

"I  didn't  say  I  didn't  like  it,"  said  Dinah,  her  eyes 
lowered.  "But — but — I  can't  do  it,  that's  all.  I'm  going 
now.  Good-bye ! ' ' 

She  turned  to  go,  but  his  fingers  still  held.  He  drew 
a  step  nearer. 

"Daphne,  remember — you  are  not  to  run  away!" 


134  Greatheart 

A  transient  dimple  showed  at  the  corner  of  Dinah's 
mouth.  "You  must  let  me  go  then,"  she  said. 

"And  if  I  do — how  will  you  reward  me?"  His  voice 
was  very  deep;  the  tones  of  it  sent  a  sharp  quiver  through 
her.  She  felt  unspeakably  small  and  helpless. 

She  made  a  little  gesture  of  appeal.  "Please — please 
let  me  go!  You  know  you  are  much  stronger  than  I  am." 

He  drew  nearer,  his  face  bent  so  low  that  his  lips  touched 
her  shoulder  as  she  stood  turned  from  him.  "You  don't 
know  your  strength  yet,"  he  said.  "But  you  soon  will. 
Are  you  going  away  from  me  like  this?  Don't  you  think 
you're  rather  hard  on  me?" 

It  was  a  point  of  view  that  had  not  occurred  to  Dinah. 
Her  warm  heart  had  a  sudden  twinge  of  self-reproach.  She 
turned  swiftly  to  him. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  be  horrid.  Please  don't  think  that  of 
me!  I  know  I  often  am.  But  not  to  you — never  to  you!" 

"Never?  "he  said. 

His  face  was  close  to  her,  and  it  wore  a  faint  smile  in 
which  she  detected  none  of  the  arrogance  of  the  conqueror. 
She  put  up  a  shy,  impulsive  hand  and  touched  his  cheek. 

"Of  course  not — Apollo!"  she  whispered. 

He  caught  the  hand  and  kissed  it.  She  trembled  as  she 
felt  the  drawing  of  his  lips. 

"I — I  must  really  go  now,"  she  told  him  hastily. 

He  stood  up  to  his  full  height,  and  again  she  quivered 
as  she  realized  how  magnificent  a  man  he  was. 

"A  bientot,  Daphne!"  he  said,  and  let  her  go. 

She  slipped  away  from  his  presence  with  the  feeling  of 
being  caught  in  the  meshes  of  a  great  net  from  which  she 
could  never  hope  to  escape.  She  had  drunk  to-night  yet 
deeper  of  the  wine  of  the  gods,  and  she  knew  beyond  all 
doubting  that  she  would  return  for  more. 

The  memory  of  his  kisses  thrilled  her  all  through  the 
night.  When  she  dreamed  she  was  back  again  in  his  arms. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

THE  UNKNOWN  FORCE 

A  RRAH  thin,  Miss  Isabel  darlint,  and  can't  ye  rest 

r\     at  all?" 

Old  Biddy  stooped  over  her  charge,  her  parchment  face  a 
mass  of  wrinkles.  Isabel  was  lying  in  bed,  but  raised  upon 
one  elbow  in  the  attitude  of  one  about  to  rise.  She  looked 
at  the  old  woman  with  a  queer,  ironical  smile  in  her  tragic 
eyes. 

"I  am  going  up  the  mountain,"  she  said.  "It  is  moon- 
light, and  I  know  the  way.  I  can  rest  when  I  get  to  the 
top." 

"Ah,  be  aisy,  darlint!"  urged  the  old  woman.  "It's 
much  more  likely  he'll  come  to  ye  if  ye  He  quiet." 

"No,  he  will  not  come' to  me."  There  was  unalterable 
conviction  in  Isabel's  voice.  "  It  is  I  who  must  go  to  him. 
If  I  had  waited  on  the  mountain  I  should  never  have  missed 
him.  He  is  waiting  for  me  there  now." 

She  flung  off  the  bedclothes  and  rose,  a  gaunt,  white 
figure  from  which  all  the  gracious  lines  of  womanhood  had 
long  since  departed.  Her  silvery  hair  hung  in  two  great 
plaits  from  her  shoulders,  wonderful  hair  that  shone  in  the 
shaded  .lamplight  with  a  lustre  that  seemed  luminous. 

"Will  I  have  to  fetch  Master  Scott  to  ye?"  said  Biddy, 
eyeing  her  wistfully.  "He's  very  tired,  poor-  young  man. 
There's  two  nights  he's  had  no  sleep  at  all.  Won't  ye  try 
and  rest  aisy  for  his  sake,  Miss  Isabel  darlint?  Ye  can 

135 


136  Greatheart 

go  up  the  mountain  in  the  morning,  and  maybe  that  little 
Miss  Bathurst  will  like  to  go  with  ye.  Do  wait  till  the 
morning  now!"  she  wheedled,  laying  a  wiry  old  hand  upon 
her.  "  It's  no  Christian  hour  at  all  for  going  about  now." 

"Let  me  go!"  said  Isabel. 

Biddy's  black  eyes  pleaded  with  a  desperate  earnestness. 
"  If  ye'd  only  listen  to  reason,  Miss  Isabel ! "  she  said. 

"How  can  I  listen,"  Isabel  answered,  "when  I  can  hear 
his  voice  in  my  heart  calling,  calling,  calling!  Oh,  let  me 
go,  Biddy!  You  don't  understand,  or  you  couldn't  seek 
to  hold  me  back  from  him." 

" Mavourneen ! "  Biddy's  eyes  were  full  of  tears;  the 
hand  she  had  laid  upon  Isabel's  arm  trembled.  "It  isn't 
meself  that's  holding  ye  back.  It's  God.  He'll  join  the 
two  of  ye  together  in  His  own  good  time,  but  ye  can't  hurry 
Him.  Ye've  got  to  bide  His  time." 

"I  can't!"  Isabel  said.  "I  can't!  You're  all  conspiring 
against  me.  I  know — I  know!  Give  me  my  cloak,  and 
I  will  go. " 

Biddy  heaved  a  great  sigh,  the  tears  were  running  down 
her  cheeks,  but  her  face  was  quite  resolute.  "I'll  have  to 
call  Master  Scott  after  all,  "  she  said. 

"No!  No!  I  don't  want  Sco'tt.  I  don't  want  anyone. 
I  only  want  to  be  up  the  mountain  in  time  for  the  dawn. 
Oh,  why  are  you  all  such  fools?  Why  can't  you  under- 
stand?" There  was  growing  exasperation  in  Isabel's 
voice. 

Biddy's  hand  fell  from  her,  and  she  turned  to  cross  the 
room. 

Scott  slept  in  the  next  room  to  them,  and  a  portable 
electric  bell  which  they  adjusted  every  night  communicated 
therewith.  Biddy  moved  slowly  to  press  the  switch,  but 
ere  she  reached  it  Isabel's  voice  stayed  her. 

"Biddy,  don't  call  Master  Scott!" 

Biddy  paused,  looking  back  with  eyes  of  faithful  devotion. 


The  Unknown  Force  137 

"Ah,  Miss  Isabel  darlint,  will  ye  rest  aisy  then?  I  dursn't 
give  ye  the  quieting  stuff  without  Master  Scott  says  so." 

" I  don't  want  anything,  "  Isabel  said.  "I  only  want  my 
liberty.  Why  are  you  all  in  league  against  me  to  keep  me 
in  just  one  place?  Ah,  listen  to  that  noise!  How  wild 
those  people  are!  It  is  the  same  every  night — every  night. 
Can  they  really  be  as  happy  as  they  sound? " 

A  distant  hubbub  had  arisen  in  the  main  corridor,  the 
banging  of  doors  and  laughter  of  careless  voices.  It  was 
some  time  after  one  o'clock,  and  the  merry-markers  were  on 
their  way  to  bed. 

' '  Never  mind  them ! ' '  said  Biddy.  ' '  They're  just  a  set  of 
noisy  children.  Lie  down  again,  Miss  Isabel!  They'll 
soon  settle,  and  then  p'raps  ye'll  get  to  sleep.  It's  not  this 
way  they'll  be  coming  anyway." 

"Someone  is  coming  this  way,"  said  Isabel,  listening 
with  sudden  close  attention. 

She  was  right.  The  quiet  tread  of  a  man's  feet  came 
down  the  corridor  that  led  to  their  private  suite.  A  man's 
hand  knocked  with  imperious  insistence  upon  the  door. 

"Sir  Eustace ! "  said  Biddy,  in  a  dramatic  whisper.  "Will 
I  tell  him  ye're  asleep,  Miss  Isabel  ?  Quick  now !  Get  back 
to  bed!" 

But  Isabel  made  no  movement  to  comply.  She  only 
drew  herself  together  with  the  nervous  contraction  of  one 
about  to  face  a  dreaded  ordeal. 

Quietly  the  door  opened.  Biddy  moved  forward,  her 
face  puckered  with  anxiety.  She  met  Sir  Eustace  on  the 
threshold. 

"Miss  Isabel  hasn't  settled  yet,  Sir  Eustace,"  she  told 
him,  her  voice  cracked  and  tremulous.  "But  she'll  not 
be  wanting  anybody  to  disturb  her.  Will  your  honour 
say  good  night  and  go?" 

There  was  entreaty  in  the  words.  Her  eyes  besought 
him.  Her  old  gnarled  hands  gripped  each  other,  trembling. 


138  Greatheart 

But  Sir  Eustace  looked  over  her  head  as  though  she  were 
not  there.  His  gaze  sought  and  found  his  sister;  and  a 
frown  gathered  on  his  clear-cut,  handsome  face. 

"Not  in  bed  yet?"  he  said,  and  closing  the  door  moved 
forward,  passing  Biddy  by. 

Isabel  stood  and  faced  him,  but  she  drew  back  a  step  as 
he  reached  her,  and  a  hunted  look  crept  into  her  wide  eyes. 

"You  are  late,  "  she  said.  "  I  thought  you  had  forgotten 
to  say  good  night." 

He  was  still  in  evening  dress.  It  was  evident  that  he 
had  only  just  come  upstairs.  "No,  I  didn't  forget,"  he 
said.  ' '  And  it  seems  I  am  not  too  late  for  you.  I  shouldn't 
have  disturbed  you  if  you  had  been  asleep." 

She  smiled  a  quivering,  piteous  smile.  "You  knew  I 
should  not  be  asleep,  "  she  said. 

He  glanced  towards  the  bed  which  Biddy  was  setting  in 
order  with  tender  solicitude.  "I  expected  to  find  you  in 
bed  nevertheless,"  he  said.  "What  made  you  get  up 
again?" 

She  shook  her  head  in  silence,  standing  before  him  like  a 
child  that  expects  a  merited  rebuke. 

He  put  a  hand  on  her  shoulder  that  was  authoritative 
rather  than  kind.  "Lie  down  again!"  he  said.  "It  is 
time  you  settled  for  the  night." 

She  threw  him  a  quick,  half -furtive  look.  "No — no!" 
she  said  hurriedly.  "  I  can't  sleep.  I  don't  want  to  sleep. 
I  think  I  will  get  a  book  and  read." 

His  hand  pressed  upon  her.  "Isabel!"  he  said  quietly. 
"When  I  say  a  thing  I  mean  it." 

She  made  a  quivering  gesture  of  appeal.  "I  can't  go  to 
bed,  Eustace.  It  is  like  lying  on  thorns.  Somehow  I  can't 
close  my  eyes  to-night.  They  feel  red-hot." 

His  hold  did  not  relax.  "My  dear,"  he  said,  "you  talk 
like  a  hysterical  child!  Lie  down  at  once,  and  don't  be 
ridiculous!" 


The  Unknown  Force  139 

She  wavered  perceptibly  before  his  insistence.  "If  I 
do,  Scott  must  give  me  a  draught.  I  can't  do  without  it — 
indeed — indeed ! " 

"You  are  going  to  do  without  it  to-night, "  Eustace  said, 
with  cool  decision.  "Scott  is  worn  out  and  has  gone  to 
bed.  I  made  him  promise  to  stay  there  unless  he  was  rung 
for.  And  he  will  not  be  rung  for  to-night." 

Isabel  made  a  sharp  movement  of  dismay.  "  But — but — 
I  always  have  the  draught  sooner  or  later.  I  must  have  it. 
Eustace,  I  must!  I  can't  do  without  it!  I  never  have 
done  without  it!" 

Eustace's  face  did  not  alter.  It  looked  as  if  it  were 
hewn  in  granite.  "You  are  going  to  make  a  beginning  to- 
night," he  said.  "You  have  been  poisoned  by  that  stuff 
long  enough,  and  I  am  going  to  put  a  stop  to  it.  Now 
get  into  bed,  and  be  reasonable!  Biddy,  you  clear  out  and 
do  the  same!  You  can  leave  the  door  ajar  if  you  like. 
I'll  call  you  if  you  are  wanted." 

He  pointed  to  the  half-open  door  that  led  into  the  small 
adjoining  room  in  which  Biddy  slept.  The  old  woman 
stood  and  stared  at  him  with  consternation  in  her  beady 
eyes. 

"Is  it  meself  that  could  do  such  a  thing?"  she  protested. 
"I  never  leave  my  young  lady  till  she's  asleep,  Sir  Eustace. 
I'd  sooner  come  under  the  curse  of  the  Almighty." 

He  raised  his  brows  momentarily,  but  he  kept  his  hand 
upon  his  sister.  He  was  steadily  pressing  her  towards  the 
bed.  "If  you  don't  do  as  you  are  told,  Biddy,  you  will  be 
made,"  he  observed.  "I  am  here  to-night  for  a  definite 
purpose,  and  I  am  not  going  to  be  thwarted  by  you.  So  you 
had  better  take  yourself  out  of  my  way.  Now,  Isabel, 
you  know  me,  don't  you?  You  know  it  is  useless  to  fight 
against  me  when  my  mind  is  made  up.  Be  sensible  for 
once!  It's  for  your  own  good.  You  can't  have  that 
draught.  You  have  got  to  manage  without  it." 


140  Greatheart 

"Oh,  I  can't!  I  can't!"  moaned  Isabel.  She  was  striving 
to  resist  his  hold,  but  her  efforts  were  piteously  weak.  The 
force  of  his  personality  plainly  dominated  her.  "I  shall  lie 
awake  all  night — all  night." 

"Very  well,"  he  said  inexorably.  "You  must.  Sleep 
will  come  sooner  or  later,  and  then  you  can  make  up  for 
it." 

"Oh,  but  you  don't  understand."  Piteously  she  turned 
and  clasped  his  arm  in  desperate  entreaty.  "I  shall  lie 
awake  in  torture.  I  shall  hear  him  calling  all  night  long. 
He  is  there  beyond  the  mountains,  wanting  me.  And  I 
can't  get  to  him.  It  is  agony — oh,  it  is  agony — to  lie  and 
vlisten ! ' ' 

He  took  her  between  his  hands,  very  firmly,  very  quietly. 
"Isabel,  you  are  talking  nonsense — utter  nonsense!  And 
I  refuse  to  listen  to  it.  Get  into  bed!  Do  you  hear?  Yes, 
I  insist.  I  am  capable  of  putting  you  there.  If  you  mean  to 
behave  like  a  child,  I  shall  treat  you  as  one.  Now  for  the 
last  time,  get  into  bed." 

"Sir  Eustace!"  pleaded  Biddy  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 
"Don't  force  her,  Sir  Eustace!  Don't  now!  Don't!" 

He  paid  no  attention  to  her.  His  eyes  were  fixed  upon 
his  sister's  death-white  face,  and  her  eyes,  strained  and 
glassy  were  upturned  to  his. 

He  said  no  more.  Isabel's  breath  came  in  short  sobbing 
gasps.  She  resisted  him  no  longer.  Under  the  steady 
pressure  of  his  hands,  her  body  yielded.  She  seemed  to 
wilt  under  the  compulsion  of  his  look.  Slowly,  trem- 
blingly, she  crumpled  in  his  hold,  sinking  downwards  upon 
the  bed. 

He  bent  over  her,  laying  her  back,  taking  the  bedclothes 
from  Biddy's  shaking  hands  and  drawing  them  over  her. 

Then  over  his  shoulder  briefly  he  addressed  the  old 
woman.  "Turn  out  the  light,  and  go!" 

Biddy    stood   and    gibbered.     There   was   that   in   her 


The  Unknown  Force  141 

mistress's  numb  acquiescence  that  terrified  her.  "Sure, 
you'll  kill  her,  Sir  Eustace!"  she  gasped. 

He  made  a  compelling  gesture.  "You  had  better  do  as  I 
say.  If  I  want  your  help — or  advice — I'll  let  you  know. 
Do  as  I  say!  Do  you  hear  me,  Biddy?" 

His  voice  fell  suddenly  and  ominously  to  a  note  so  deep 
that  Biddy  drew  back  still  further  affrighted  and  began  to 
whimper. 

Sir  Eustace  turned  back  to  his  sister,  lying  motionless 
on  the  pillow.  "  Tell  her  to  go,  Isabel !  I  am  going  to  stay 
with  you  myself.  You  don't  want  her,  do  you?" 

"No,"  said  Isabel.     "I  want  Scott." 

"You  can't  have  Scott  to-night."  There  was  absolute 
decision  in  his  voice.  "It  is  essential  that  he  should  get  a 
rest.  He  looked  ready  to  drop  to-night." 

"Ah!  You  think  me  selfish!"  she  said,  catching  her 
breath. 

He  sat  down  by  her  side.  "No,"  he  answered  quietly. 
"But  I  think  you  have  not  the  least  idea  how  much 
he  spends  himself  upon  you.  If  you  had,  you  would  be 
shocked." 

She  moved  restlessly.  "You  don't  understand,"  she 
said.  "You  never  understand.  Eustace,  I  wish  you  would 
go  away." 

"I  will  go  in  half  an  hour,"  he  made  calm  rejoinder, 
"if  you  have  not  moved  during  that  time." 

"You  know  that  is  impossible, "  she  said. 

"Very  well  then.  I  shall  remain."  His  jaw  set  itself 
in  a  fashion  that  brought  it  into  heavy  prominence. 

"You  will  stay  all  night?"  she  questioned  quickly. 

"If  necessary,"  he  answered. 

Biddy  had  turned  the  lamp  very  low.  The  faint  radiance 
shone  upon  him  as  he  sat  imparting  a  certain  mysterious 
force  to  his  dominant  outline.  He  looked  as  immovable 
as  an  image  carved  in  stone. 


142  Greatheart 

A  great  shiver  went  through  Isabel.  "You  want  to  see 
me  suffer, "  she  said. 

"You  are  wrong,"  he  returned  inflexibly.  "But  I  would 
sooner  see  you  suffer  than  give  yourself  up  to  a  habit  which 
is  destroying  you  by  inches.  It  is  no  kindness  on  Scott's 
part  to  let  you  do  it." 

"Don't  talk  of  Scott!"  she  said  quickly.  "No  one — no 
one — will  ever  know  what  he  is  to  me — how  he  has  helped 
me — while  you — you  have  only  looked  on!" 

Her  voice  quivered.  She  flung  out  a  restless  arm.  In- 
stantly, yet  without  haste,  he  took  and  held  her  hand. 
His  fingers  pressed  the  fevered  wrist.  He  spoke  after  a 
moment  while  he  quelled  her  instinctive  effort  to  free 
herself.  "I  am  not  merely  looking  on  to-night.  I  am 
here  to  help  you — if  you  will  accept  my  help." 

"You  are  here  to  torture  me!"  she  flung  back  fiercely. 
"You  are  here  to  force  me  down  into  hell,  and  lock  the  gates 
upon  me!" 

His  hold  tightened  upon  her.  He  leaned  slightly  towards 
her.  "  I  am  here  to  conquer  you, "  he  said,  "if  you  will  not 
conquer  yourself." 

The  sudden  sternness  of  his  speech,  the  compulsion  of 
his  look,  took  swift  effect  upon  her.  She  cowered  away  from 
him. 

"You  are  cruel!"  she  whispered.  "You  always  were 
cruel  at  heart — even  in  the  days  when  you  loved  me." 

Sir  Eustace's  lips  became  a  single,  hard  line.  His  whole 
strength  was  bent  to  the  task  of  subduing  her,  and  he  meant 
it  to  be  as  brief  a  struggle  as  possible. 

He  said  nothing  whatever  therefore,  and  so  passed  his 
only  opportunity  of  winning  the  conflict  by  any  means  save 
naked  force. 

To  Isabel  in  her  torment  that  night  was  the  culmination 
of  sorrows.  For  years  this  brother  who  had  once  been  all  the 
world  to  her  had  held  aloof,  never  seeking  to  pass  the 


The  Unknown  Force  143 

barrier  which  her  widowed  love  had  raised  between  them. 
He  had  threatened  many  times  to  take  the  step  which  now 
at  last  he  had  taken;  but  always  Scott  had  intervened, 
shielding  her  from  the  harshness  which  such  a  step  in- 
evitably involved.  And  by  love  he  had  never  sought  to 
prevail.  Her  mental  weakness  seemed  to  have  made 
tenderness  from  him  an  impossibility.  He  could  not  bear 
with  her.  It  was  as  though  he  resented  in  her  the  likeness 
to  one  beloved  whom  he  mourned  as  dead. 

Possibly  he  had  never  wholly  forgiven  her  marriage — 
that  disastrous  marriage  that  had  broken  her  life.  Possibly 
her  clouded  brain  was  to  him  a  source  of  suffering  which 
drove  him  to  hardness.  He  had  ever  been  impatient  of 
weakness,  and  what  he  deemed  hysteria  was  wholly  beyond 
his  endurance;  and  the  spectacle  of  the  one  being  who  had 
been  so  much  to  him  crushed  beneath  a  sorrow  the  very 
existence  of  which  he  resented  was  one  which  he  had  never 
been  able  to  contemplate  with  either  pity  or  tolerance. 
As  he  had  said,  he  would  rather  see  her  suffering  than  a 
passive  slave  to  that  sorrow  and  all  that  it  entailed. 

So  during  the  dreadful  hours  that  followed  he  held  her  to 
her  inferno,  convinced  beyond  all  persuasion — with  the 
stubborn  conviction  of  an  iron  will — that  by  so  doing  he 
was  acting  for  her  welfare,  even  in  a  sense  working  out  her 
salvation. 

He  relied  upon  the  force  of  his  personality  to  accomplish 
the  end  he  had  in  view.  If  he  could  break  the  fatal  rule  of 
things  for  one  night  only,  he  believed  that  he  would  have 
achieved  the  hardest  part.  But  the  process  was  long  and 
agonizing.  Only  by  the  sternest  effort  of  will  could  he 
keep  up  the  pressure  which  he  knew  he  must  not  relax  for 
a  single  moment  if  he  meant  to  attain  the  victory  he 
desired. 

There  came  a  time  when  Isabel's  powers  of  endurance 
were  lost  in  the  abyss  of  mental  suffering  into  which  she 


144  Greatheart 

was  flung,  and  she  struggled  like  a  mad  creature  for  freedom. 
He  held  her  in  his  arms,  feeling  her  strength  wane  with 
every  paroxysm,  till  at  last  she  lay  exhausted,  only  feebly 
entreating  him  for  the  respite  he  would  not  grant. 

But  even  when  the  bitter  conflict  was  over,  when  she  was 
utterly  conquered  at  last,  and  he  laid  her  down,  too  weak 
for  further  effort,  he  did  not  gather  the  fruits  of  victory. 
For  her  eyes  remained  wide  and  glassy,  dry  and  sleepless 
with  the  fever  that  throbbed  ceaselessly  in  the  poor  tor- 
tured brain  behind. 

She  was  passive  from  exhaustion  only,  and  though  he 
closed  the  staring  eyes,  yet  they  opened  again  with  tense 
wakefulness  the  moment  he  took  his  hand  from  the  burning 
brow. 

The  night  was  far  advanced  when  Biddy,  creeping  softly 
came  to  her  mistress's  side  in  the  belief  that  she  slept  at 
last.  She  had  not  dared  to  come  before,  had  not  dared  to 
interfere  though  she  had  listened  with  a  wrung  heart  to  the 
long  and  futile  battle;  for  Sir  Eustace's  wrath  was  very 
terrible,  too  terrible  a  thing  to  incur  with  impunity. 

But  the  moment  she  looked  upon  Isabel's  face,  her 
courage  came  upon  a  flood  of  indignation  that  carried 
all  before  it. 

"Faith,  I  believe  you've  killed  her!"  she  uttered  in  a 
sibilant  whisper  across  the  bed.  "  Is  it  yourself  that  has  no 
heart  at  all?" 

He  looked  back  to  her,  dominant  still,  though  the  pro- 
longed struggle  had  left  its  mark  upon  him  also.  His  face 
was  pale  and  set. 

"This  is  only  a  phase,"  he  said  quietly.  "She  will  fall 
asleep  presently.  You  can  get  her  a  cup  of  tea  if  you  can 
do  it  without  making  a  fuss." 

Biddy  turned  from  the  bed.  That  glimpse  of  Isabel's 
face  had  been  enough.  She  had  no  further  thought  of 
consequences.  She  moved  across  the  room  to  set  about  her 


The  Unknown  Force  145 

task,  and  in  doing  so  she  paused  momentarily  and  pressed 
the  bell  that  communicated  with  Scott's  room. 

Sir  Eustace  did  not  note  the  action.  Perhaps  the  long 
strain  had  weakened  his  vigilance  somewhat.  He  sat  in 
massive  obduracy,  relentlessly  watching  his  sister's  worn 
white  face. 

Two  minutes  later  the  door  opened,  and  a  shadowy  figure 
slipped  into  the  room. 

He  looked  up  then,  looked  up  sharply.  "You!"  he  said, 
with  curt  displeasure. 

Scott  came  straight  to  him,  and  leaned  over  his  sister 
for  a  moment  with  a  hand  on  his  shoulder.  She  did  not 
stir,  or  seem  aware  of  his  presence.  Her  eyes  gazed  straight 
upwards  with  a  painful,  immovable  stare. 

Scott  stood  up  again.  His  hand  was  still  upon  Eustace. 
He  looked  him  in  the  eyes.  "You  go  to  bed,  my  dear 
chap!"  he  said.  "I've  had  my  rest." 

Eustace  jerked  back  his  head  with  a  movement  of  exas- 
peration. "You  promised  to  stay  in  your  room  unless  you 
were  rung  for, "  he  said. 

Scott's  brows  went  up  for  a  second;  then,  "For  the 
night,  yes !"  he  said.  "  But  the  night  is  over.  It  is  nearly 
six.  I  shan't  sleep  again.  You  go  and  get  what  sleep  you 
can." 

Eustace's  jaw  looked  stubborn.  "If  you  will  give  me 
your  word  of  honour  not  to  drug  her,  I'll  go, "  he  said.  ' '  Not 
otherwise." 

Scott's  hand  pressed  his  shoulder.  "You  must  leave  her 
in  my  care  now,"  he  said.  "I  am  not  going  to  promise 
anything  more." 

"Then  I  remain, "  said  Eustace  grimly. 

A  muffled  sob  came  from  Biddy.  She  was  weeping  over 
her  tea-kettle. 

Scott  took  his  brother  by  the  shoulders  as  he  sat.  "Go 
like  a  good  fellow"  he  urged.  "You  will  do  harm  if  you  stay." 


146  Greatheart 

But  Eustace  resisted  him.  "I  am  here  for  a  definite 
purpose, "  he  said,  "and  I  have  no  intention  of  relinquishing 
it.  She  has  come  through  so  far  without  it,  I  am  not  going 
to  give  in  at  this  stage." 

"And  you  think  your  treatment  has  done  her  good?" 
said  Scott,  with  a  glance  at  the  drawn,  motionless  face  on 
the  pillow. 

"Ultimate  good  is  what  I  am  aiming  at,"  his  brother 
returned  stubbornly. 

Scott's  hold  became  a  grip.  He  leaned  suddenly  down 
and  spoke  in  a  whisper.  "If  I  had  known  you  were  up  to 
this,  I'm  damned  if  I'd  have  stayed  away!"  he  said  tensely. 

"Stumpy!"  Eustace  opened  his  eyes  in  amazement. 
Strong  language  from  Scott  was  so  unusual  as  to  be  almost 
outside  his  experience. 

"I  mean  it!"  Scott's  words  vibrated.  "You've  done  a 
hellish  thing!  Clear  out  now,  and  leave  me  to  help  her  in 
my  own  way!  Before  God,  I  believe  she'll  die  if  you  don't! 
Do  you  want  her  to  die?" 

The  question  fell  with  a  force  that  was  passionate. 
There  was  violence  in  the  grip  of  his  hands.  His  light 
eyes  were  ablaze.  His  whole  meagre  body  quivered  as 
though  galvanized  by  some  vital,  electric  current  more 
potent  than  it  could  bear. 

And  very  curiously  Sir  Eustace  was  moved  by  the  un- 
known force.  It  struck  him  unawares.  Stumpy  in  this 
mood  was  a  complete  stranger  to  him,  a  being  possessed 
by  gods  or  devils,  he  knew  not  which;  but  in  any  case  a 
being  that  compelled  respect. 

He  got  up  and  stood  looking  down  at  him  speculatively, 
too  astonished  to  be  angry. 

Scott  faced  him  with  clenched  hands.  He  was  white  as 
death.  "Go!"  he  reiterated.  "Go!  There's  no  room 
for  you  in  here.  Get  out!" 

His  lips  twisted  over  the  words,  and  for  an  instant  his 


The  Unknown  Force  147 

teeth  showed  with  a  savage  gleam.  He  was  trembling  from 
head  to  foot. 

It  was  no  moment  for  controversy.  Sir  Eustace  recog- 
nized the  fact  just  as  surely  as  he  realized  that  his  brother 
had  completely  parted  with  his  self-control.  He  had  the 
look  of  a  furious  animal  prepared  to  spring  at  his  throat. 

Greek  had  met  Greek  indeed,  but  upon  ground  that  was 
wholly  unsuitable  for  a  tug  of  war.  With  a  shrug  he 
yielded. 

"I  don't  know  you,  Stumpy,"  he  said  briefly.  "You've 
got  beyond  yourself.  I  advise  you  to  pull  up  before  we 
meet  again.  I  also  advise  you  to  bear  in  mind  that  to 
administer  that  draught  is  to  undo  all  that  I  have  spent 
the  whole  night  to  accomplish." 

Scott  stood  back  for  him  to  pass,  but  the  quivering  fury 
of  the  man  seemed  to  emanate  from  him  like  the  scorching 
draught  from  a  blast  furnace.  As  Eustace  said,  he  had 
got  beyond  himself, — so  far  beyond  that  he  was  scarcely 
recognizable. 

"Your  advice  be  damned!"  he  flung  back  under  his 
breath  with  a  concentrated  bitterness  that  was  terrible. 
"I  shall  follow  my  own  judgment." 

Sir  Eustace's  mouth  curled  superciliously.  He  was 
angry  too,  though  by  no  means  so  angry  as  Scott.  "Better 
look  where  you  go  all  the  same,"  he  observed,  and  passed 
him  by,  not  without  dignity  and  a  secret  sense  of  relief. 

The  long  and  fruitless  vigil  of  the  night  had  taught  him 
one  thing  at  least.  Rome  was  not  built  in  a  day.  He  would 
not  attempt  the  feat  a  second  time,  though  neither  would 
he  rest  till  he  had  gained  his  end. 

As  for  Scott,  he  would  have  a  reckoning  with  him  pres- 
ently— a  strictly  private  reckoning  which  should  demon- 
strate once  and  for  all  who  was  master. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE   ESCAPE   OF  THE   PRISONER 

DINAH  spent  her  Sunday  afternoon  seated  in  a  far 
corner  of  the  verandah,  inditing  a  very  laboured 
epistle  to  her  mother — a  very  different  affair  from  the  gay 
little  missives  she  scribbled  to  her  father  every  other  day. 

The  letter  to  her  mother  was  a  duty  which  must  of  neces- 
sity be  accomplished,  and  perhaps  in  consequence  she 
found  it  peculiarly  distasteful.  She  never  knew  what  to 
say,  being  uncomfortably  aware  that  a  detailed  account  of 
her  doings  would  only  give  rise  to  drastic  comment.  The 
glories  of  the  mountains  were  wholly  beyond  her  powers 
of  description  when  she  knew  that  any  extravagance  of 
language  would  be  at  once  termed  high-flown  and  ridiculous. 
The  sleigh-drive  of  the  day  before  was  disposed  of  in  one 
sentence,  and  the  dance  of  the  evening  could  not  be  men- 
tioned at  all.  The  memory  of  it  was  like  a  flame  in  her  inner 
consciousness.  Her  cheeks  still  burned  at  the  thought, 
and  her  heart  leapt  with  a  wild  longing.  When  would 
he  kiss  her  again,  she  wondered  ?  Ah,  when,  when  ? 

There  was  another  thought  at  the  back  of  her  wonder 
which  she  felt  to  be  presumptuous,  but  which  nevertheless 
could  not  be  kept  completely  in  abeyance.  He  had  said 
that  there  would  be  no  consequences;  but — had  he  really 
meant  it?  Was  it  possible  ever  to  awake  wholly  from  so 
perfect  a  dream?  Was  it  not  rather  the  great  reality  of 
things  to  which  she  had  suddenly  come,  and  all  her  past 

148 


The  Escape  of  the  Prisoner  149 

life  a  mere  background  of  shadows?  How  could  she  ever 
go  back  into  that  dimness  now  that  she  felt  the  glorious 
rays  of  this  new  radiance  upon  her?  And  he  also — was 
it  possible  that  he  could  ever  forget?  Surely  it  had  ceased 
to  be  just  a  game  to  either  of  them!  Surely,  surely,  the 
wonder  and  the  rapture  had  caught  him  also  into  the  magic 
web — the  golden  maze  of  Romance! 

She  leaned  her  head  on  her  hand  and  gave  herself  up  to 
the  great  enchantment,  feeling  again  his  kisses  upon  lips 
and  eyes  and  brow,  and  the  thrilling  irresistibility  of  his 
hold.  Ah,  this  was  life  indeed!  Ah,  this  was  life! 

A  soft  footfall  near  her  made  her  look  up  sharply,  and 
she  saw  Rose  de  Vigne  approaching.  Rose  was  looking 
even  more  beautiful  than  usual,  yet  for  the  first  time  Dinah 
contemplated  her  without  any  under-current  of  envy. 
SJie  moved  slightly  to  make  room  for  her. 

"I  haven't  come  to  stay,"  Rose  announced  with  her 
quiet,  well-satisfied  smile,  as  she  drew  near.  "I  have 
promised  to  sing  at  to-night's  concert  and  the  padre  wants  to 
look  through  my  songs.  Well,  Dinah,  my  dear,  how  are 
you  getting  on?  Is  that  a  letter  to  your  mother? " 

Dinah  suppressed  a  sigh.  "Yes.  I've  only  just  begun 
it.  I  don't  know  in  the  least  what  to  say." 

Rose  lifted  her  pretty  brows.  "What  about  your  new 
friend  Sir  Eustace  Studley's  sister?  Wouldn't  she  be 
interested  to  hear  of  her?  Poor  soul,  it's  lamentably  sad 
to  think  that  she  should  be  mentally  deranged.  Some 
unfortunate  strain  in  the  family,  I  should  say,  to  judge  by 
the  younger  brother's  appearance  also." 

Dinah's  green  eyes  gleamed  a  little.  "I  don't  see  any 
thing  very  unusual  about  him,"  she  remarked.  "There 
are  plenty  of  little  men  in  the  world." 

"And  crippled?"  smiled  Rose. 

"I  shouldn't  call  him  a  cripple, "  rejoined  Dinah  quickly. 
"He  is  quite  active." 


150  Greatheart 

"Many  cripples  are,  dear,"  Rose  pointed  out.  "He  has 
learnt  to  get  the  better  of  his  infirmity,  but  nothing  can 
alter  the  fact  that  the  infirmity  exists.  I  call  him  a  most 
peculiar  little  person  to  look  at.  Of  course  I  don't  deny 
that  he  may  be  very  nice  in  other  ways." 

Dinah  bit  her  lip  and  was  silent.  To  hear  Scott  described 
as  nice  was  to  her  mind  less  endurable  than  to  hear  him 
called  peculiar.  But  somehow  she  could  not  bring  herself 
to  discuss  him,  so  she  choked  down  her  indignation  and 
said  nothing. 

Rose  seated  herself  beside  her.  "I  call  Sir  Eustace  a 
very  interesting  man,"  she  observed.  "He  fully  makes 
up  for  the  deficiencies  of  his  brother  and  sister.  He  seems 
to  be  very  kind-hearted  too.  Didn't  I  see  him  helping 
you  with  your  skating  the  other  night?" 

Dinah's  eyes  shone  again  with  a  quick  and  ominous  light. 
"He  helped  you  with  your  ski-ing  too,  didn't  he?"  she  said. 

"He  did,  dear.  I  had  a  most  enjoyable  afternoon." 
Rose  smiled  again  as  over  some  private  reminiscence.  "  He 
told  me  he  thought  you  were  coming  on,  in  fact  he  seems 
to  think  that  you  have  the  makings  of  quite  a  good  skater. 
It's  a  pity  your  opportunities  are  so  limited,  dear."  Rose 
paused  to  utter  a  soft  laugh. 

"I  don't  see  anything  funny  in  that,"  remarked  Dinah. 

" No,  no!  Of  course  not.  I  was  only  smiling  at  the  way 
in  which  he  referred  to  you.  'That  little  brown  cousin  of 
yours'  he  said,  'makes  me  think  of  a  water-vole,  there  one 
minute  and  gone  the  next.'  He  seemed  to  think  you  a 
rather  amusing  child,  as  of  course  you  are."  Rose  put  up 
a  delicate  hand  and  playfully  caressed  the  glowing  cheek 
nearest  to  her.  "I  told  him  you  were  not  any  relation, 
but  just  a  dear  little  friend  of  mine  who  had  never  seen 
anything  of  the  world  before.  And  he  laughed  and  said, 
'That  is  why  she  looks  like  a  chocolate  baby  out  of  an 
Easter  egg.' " 


The  Escape  of  the  Prisoner  151 

"Anything  else?"  said  Dinah,  repressing  an  urgent  desire 
to  shiver  at  the  kindly  touch. 

"No,  I  don't  think  so.  We  had  more  important  matters 
to  think  of  and  talk  about.  He  is  a  man  who  has  travelled 
a  good  deal,  and  we  found  that  we  had  quite  a  lot  in  common, 
having  visited  the  same  places  and  regarded  many  things 
from  practically  the  same  point  of  view.  He  took  the 
trouble  to  be  very  entertaining,"  said  Rose,  with  a  pretty 
blush.  "And  his  trouble  was  not  misspent.  I  am  con- 
vinced that  he  enjoyed  the  afternoon  even  more  than  I  did. 
We  also  enjoyed  the  evening, "  she  added.  "  He  is  an  excel- 
lent dancer.  We  suited  each  other  perfectly." 

"Did  you  find  him  good  at  sitting  out?"  asked  Dinah 
unexpectedly. 

Rose  looked  at  her  enquiringly,  but  her  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  the  distant  mist-capped  mountains.  There  was 
nothing  in  her  aspect  to  indicate  what  had  prompted  the 
question. 

"What  a  funny  thing  to  ask!"  she  said,  with  her  soft 
laugh.  "No;  we  enjoyed  dancing  much  too  much  to  waste 
any  time  sitting  out.  He  gave  you  one  dance,  I  believe? " 

"  No, "  Dinah  said  briefly.     "  I  gave  him  one." 

She  turned  from  her  contemplation  of  the  mountains. 
An  odd  little  smile  very  different  from  Rose's  smile  of 
complacency  hovered  at  the  corners  of  her  mouth.  She 
gave  Rose  a  swift  and  comprehensive  glance,  then  slipped 
her  pen  into  her  writing-case  and  closed  it. 

"I  am  afraid  I  have  interrupted  you,"  said  Rose. 

"Oh  no,  it  doesn't  matter."  Dinah's  dimple  showed  for 
a  second  and  was  gone.  "I  can't  write  any  more  now. 
There's  something  about  this  air  that  makes  me  feel  now 
and  then  that  I  must  get  up  and  jump.  Does  it  affect  you 
that  way?" 

"You  funny  little  thing!"  said  Rose.     "Why,  no!" 

Dinah's   chin    pointed  upwards.      She   looked   for  the 


152  Greatheart 

moment  almost  aggressively  happy.  But  the  next  her 
look  went  beyond  Rose,  and  she  started.  Her  expression 
altered,  became  suddenly  tender  and  anxious. 

"There  is  Mrs.  Everard!"  she  said  softly. 

Rose  looked  round.  "Ah!  Captain  Brent's  Purple 
Empress!"  she  said.  "How  haggard  the  poor  soul  looks!" 

As  if  drawn  magnetically,  Dinah  moved  along  the 
verandah. 

Isabel  was  dressed  in  the  long  purple  coat  she  had  worn 
the  previous  day.  She  had  a  cap  of  black  fur  on  her  head. 
She  stood  as  if  irresolute,  glancing  up  and  down  as  though 
she  searched  for  someone.  There  was  an  odd  furtiveness 
in  her  bearing  that  struck  Dinah  on  the  instant.  It  also 
occurred  to  her  as  strange  that  though  the  restless  eyes  must 
have  seen  her  they  did  not  seem  to  take  her  in. 

The  fact  deterred  her  for  a  second,  but  only  for  a  second. 
Then  swiftly  she  went  forward  and  joined  her. 

"Are  you  looking  for  someone,  dear  Mrs.  Everard?" 

Isabel's  eyes  glanced  at  her,  and  instantly  looked  beyond. 
"I  am  looking  for  my  husband,"  she  said,  her  voice  quick 
and  low.  "He  does  not  seem  to  be  here.  You  have  not 
seen  him,  I  suppose?  He  is  tall  and  fair  with  a  boyish 
smile,  and  eyes  that  look  straight  at  you.  He  laughs  a 
good  deal.  He  is  always  laughing.  You  couldn't  fail  to 
notice  him.  He  is  one  whom  the  gods  love." 

Again  her  eyes  roamed  over  Dinah,  and  again  they  passed 
her  to  scan  the  mist-wreathed  mountains. 

Dinah  slipped  a  loving  hand  through  her  arm.  "He  is 
not  here,  dear,"  she  said.  "  Come  and  sit  down  for  a  little ! 
The  sun  won't  be  gone  yet.  We  can  watch  it  go." 

She  tried  to  draw  her  gently  along  the  verandah,  but 
Isabel  resisted.  "No — no!  I  am  not  going  that  way. 
I  have  to  go  up  the  mountains  to  meet  him.  Don't  keep 
me !  Don't  keep  me ! ' ' 

Dinah  threw  an  anxious  look  around.     There  was  no  one 


The  Escape  of  the  Prisoner  153 

near  them.  Rose  had  moved  away  to  join  a  group  just 
returned  from  the  rink.  The  laughter  and  gay  voices  rose 
on  the  still  air  in  merry  chorus.  No  one  knew  or  cared  of 
the  living  tragedy  so  near. 

Pleadingly  she  turned  to  Isabel.  "  Darling  Mrs.  Everard, 
need  you  go  now?  Wait  till  the  morning!  It  is  so  late 
now.  It  will  soon  be  dark." 

Isabel  made  a  sharp  gesture  of  impatience.  "Be  quiet, 
child!  You  don't  understand.  Of  course  I  must  go  now. 
I  have  escaped  from  them,  and  if  I  wait  I  shall  be  taken 
again.  It  would  kill  me  to  be  kept  back  now.  I  must 
meet  him  in  the  dawn  on  the  mountain-top.  What  was  it 
you  called  it?  The  peaks  of  Paradise!  That  is  where  I 
shall  find  him.  But  I  must  start  at  once — at  once." 

She  threw  another  furtive  look  around,  and  stepped 
forth.  Dinah's  hand  closed  upon  her  arm.  "If  you  go, 
I  am  coming  too,"  she  said,  with  quick  resolution.  "But 
won't  you  wait  a  moment — just  a  moment — while  I  run 
and  get  some  gloves?" 

Isabel  made  a  swift  effort  to  disengage  herself.  "No, 
child,  no!  I  can't  wait.  If  you  met  Eustace,  he  would 
make  you  tell  him  where  you  were  going,  and  then  he  would 
follow  and  bring  me  back.  No,  I  must  go  now — at  once. 
Yes,  you  may  come  too  if  you  like.  But  you  mustn't 
keep  me  back.  I  must  go  quickly — quickly — before  they 
find  out.  Everything  depends  on  that." 

There  was  no  delaying  her.  Dinah  cast  another  look 
towards  the  chattering  group,  and  gave  up  hope.  She 
dared  not  leave  her,  for  she  had  no  idea  of  the  whereabouts 
of  either  of  the  brothers.  And  there  was  no  time  to  make  a 
search.  The  only  course  open  to  her  was  to  accompany 
her  friend  whithersoever  the  fruitless  quest  should  lead. 
She  was  convinced  that  Isabel's  physical  powers  of  endur- 
ance were  slight,  and  that  when  they  were  exhausted  she 
would  be  able  to  bring  her  back  unresisting. 


154  Greatheart 

Nevertheless,  she  was  conscious  of  a  little  tremor  at 
the  heart  as  they  set  forth.  There  was  an  air  of  desperation 
about  her  companion  that  it  was  impossible  to  overlook. 
Isabel's  manner  towards  her  was  so  wholly  devoid  of  that 
caressing  element  that  had  always  marked  their  intimacy 
till  that  moment.  Without  being  actually  frightened,  she 
was  very  uneasy.  It  was  evident  that  Isabel  was  beyond 
all  persuasion  that  day. 

The  sun  was  beginning  to  sink  towards  the  western  peaks 
as  they  turned  up  the  white  track,  casting  long  shadows 
across  the  snow.  The  pine-wood  through  which  the  road 
wound  was  mysteriously  dark.  The  rush  of  the  stream 
in  the  hollow  had  an  eerie  sound.  It  seemed  to  Dinah  that 
the  ground  they  trod  was  bewitched.  She  almost  expected 
to  catch  sight  of  goblin-faces  peering  from  behind  the  dark 
trunks.  Now  and  then  muffled  in  the  snow,  she  thought 
she  heard  the  scamper  of  tiny  feet. 

Isabel  went  up  the  steep  track  with  a  wonderful  elasticity, 
looking  neither  to  right  nor  left.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  per- 
petually forwards,  with  the  look  in  them  of  one  who  strains 
towards  a  goal.  Her  lips  were  parted,  and  the  eagerness 
of  her  face  went  to  Dinah's  heart. 

They  came  out  above  the  pine-wood.  They  reached  and 
passed  the  spot  where  she  and  Scott  had  turned  back 
on  their  first  walk  together.  The  snow  crunched  crisply 
underfoot.  The  ascent  was  becoming  more  and  more 
acute. 

Dinah  was  panting.  Light  as  she  was,  with  all  the 
activity  of  youth  in  her  veins,  she  found  it  hard  to  keep 
up,  for  Isabel  was  pressing,  pressing  hard.  She  went  as 
one  in  whom  the  fear  of  pursuit  was  ever  present,  paying 
no  heed  to  her  companion,  seeming  indeed  to  have  almost 
forgotten  her  presence. 

On  and  on,  up  and  up,  they  went  on  their  rapid  pilgrim- 
age. The  winding  of  the  road  had  taken  them  out  of  sight 


The  Escape  of  the  Prisoner  155 

of  the  hotel,  and  the  whole  world  seemed  deserted.  The 
sun-rays  slanted  ever  more  and  more  obliquely.  The  valley 
behind  them  had  fallen  into  shadow. 

Before  them  and  very  far  above  them  towered  the  great 
pinnacles,  clothed  in  the  everlasting  snows,  beginning  to 
turn  golden  above  their  floating  wreaths  of  mist.  Even 
where  they  were,  trails  like  the  ragged  edges  of  a  cloud 
drifted  by  them,  and  the  coldness  of  the  air  held  a  clammy 
quality.  The  sparkling  dryness  of  the  atmosphere  seemed 
to  be  dissolving  into  these  thin,  veil-like  vapours.  The 
cold  was  more  penetrating  than  Dinah  had  ever  before 
experienced. 

Now  and  then  an  icy  draught  came  swirling  down  upon 
them,  making  her  shiver,  though  it  was  evident  that  Isabel 
was  unaware  of  it.  The  harder  the  way  became,  the  more 
set  upon  her  purpose  did  she  seem  to  be.  Dinah  marvelled 
at  her  strength  and  unvarying  determination.  There  was 
about  it  an  element  of  the  wild,  not  far  removed  from 
ferocity.  Her  uneasiness  was  growing  with  every  step, 
and  something  that  was  akin  to  fear  began  to  knock  at  her 
heart.  The  higher  they  mounted,  the  more  those  trails 
of  mist  increased.  Very  soon  now  the  sun  would  be  gone. 
Already  it  had  ceased  to  warm  that  world  of  snow.  And 
what  would  happen  then?  What  if  the  dusk  came  upon 
them  while  still  they  pressed  on  up  that  endless,  difficult 
track? 

Timidly  she  clasped  Isabel's  arm  at  last.  "It  will  be 
getting  dark  soon,"  she  said.  "Shouldn't  we  be  going 
back?" 

For  a  moment  Isabel's  eyes  swept  round  upon  her,  and 
she  marvelled  at  their  intense  and  fiery  brilliance.  But 
instantly  they  sought  the  mountain-tops  again,  all  rose-lit 
in  the  opal  glow  of  sunset. 

"You  can  go  back,  child, "  she  said.     "I  must  go  on." 

"But  it  is  getting   so   late,"   pleaded    Dinah.      "And 


156  Greatheart 

look  at  the  mist !  If  we  keep  on  much  longer,  we  may  be 
lost." 

Isabel  quickened  her  pace.  "  I  am  not  afraid, "  she  said, 
and  her  voice  thrilled  with  a  deep  rapture.  "He  is  wait- 
ing for  me,  there  where  the  mountains  meet  the  sky.  I 
shall  find  him  in  the  dawn.  I  know  that  I  shall  find 
him." 

"But,  dear  Mrs.  Everard,  we  can't  go  on  after  dark," 
urged  Dinah.  "We  should  be  frozen  long  before  morning. 
It  is  terribly  cold  already.  And  poor  Biddy  will  be  so 
anxious  about  you." 

' '  Oh  no ! "  Isabel  spoke  with  supreme  confidence.  ' '  Biddy 
will  know  where  I  have  gone.  She  was  asleep  when  I  left, 
poor  old  soul.  She  had  had  a  bad  night."  A  sudden  sharp 
shudder  caught  her.  "All  night  I  was  struggling  against 
the  bars  of  my  cage.  It  was  only  when  Biddy  fell  asleep 
that  I  found  the  door  was  open.  But  you  can  go  back, 
child,"  she  added.  "You  had  better  go  back.  Eustace 
won't  want  to  follow  me  if  he  has  you." 

But  Dinah's  hold  instantly  grew  close  and  resolute.  "I 
shall  not  leave  you,"  she  said,  with  decision. 

Isabel  made  no  further  attempt  to  persuade  her.  She 
seemed  to  regard  it  as  a  matter  of  trifling  importance. 
Her  one  aim  was  to  reach  those  glowing  peaks  that  glittered 
far  above  the  floating  mists  like  the  glories  half-revealed 
of  another  world. 

It  was  nothing  to  her  that  the  road  by  which  they  had 
come  should  be  blotted  out.  She  had  no  thought  for  that, 
no  desire  or  intention  to  return.  If  an  earthquake  had  rent 
away  the  ground  behind  them,  she  would  not  have  been 
dismayed.  It  was  only  the  forward  path,  leading  ever 
upwards  to  the  desired  country,  that  held  her  mind,  and 
the  memory  of  a  voice  that  called  far  above  the  mountain 
height. 

The  sun  sank,   the  glory  faded.      The  dark  and   the 


The  Escape  of  the  Prisoner          157 

cold  wrapped  them  round.  But  still  was  she  undaunted. 
"When  the  dawn  comes,  we  shall  be  there, "  she  said. 

And  Dinah  heard  her  with  a  sinking  heart.  She  had  no 
thought  of  leaving  her,  but  she  knew  and  faced  the  fact  that 
in  going  on,  she  carried  her  life  in  her  hand.  Yet  she  kept 
herself  from  despair.  Surely  by  now  the  brothers  would 
have  found  out,  and  they  would  follow !  Surely  they  would 
follow!  And  Eustace — Eustace  would  thank  her  for  what 
she  had  done. 

She  strained  her  ears  for  their  coming;  but  she  heard 
nothing — nothing  but  their  own  muffled  footsteps  on  the 
snow.  And  ever  the  darkness  deepened,  and  the  mist  crept 
closer  around  them. 

She  gathered  all  her  courage  to  face  the  falling  night. 
She  was  sure  she  had  done  right  to  come,  and  so  she  hoped 
God  would  take  care  of  them. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  CUP    OF    BITTERNESS 

IT  was  growing  late  on  that  same  evening  that  Scott 
came  through  the  hotel  vestibule  after  a  rehearsal  of  the 
concert  which  was  to  take  place  that  evening  and  at  which 
he  had  undertaken  to  play  the  accompaniments.  He 
glanced  about  him  as  he  came  as  though  in  search  of  some- 
one, and  finally  passed  on  to  the  smoking-room.  His  eyes 
were  heavy  and  his  face  worn,  but  there  was  an  air  of 
resolution  about  him  that  gave  purpose  to  his  movements. 

In  the  smoking-room  several  men  were  congregated,  and 
in  a  corner  of  it  sat  Sir  Eustace,  writing  a  letter.  Scott 
came  straight  to  him,  and  bent  over  him  a  hand  on  the 
back  of  his  chair. 

"Can  I  have  a  word  with  you?"  he  asked  in  a  low.  voice. 

Sir  Eustace  did  not  look  round  or  cease  to  write. 
"Presently,"  he  said. 

Scott  drew  back  and  sat  down  near  him.  He  did  not 
smoke  or  take  up  a  paper.  His  attitude  was  one  of  quiet 
vigilance. 

Minutes  passed.  Sir  Eustace  continued  his  task  exactly 
as  if  he  were  not  there.  Now  and  then  he  paused  to  flick 
the  ash  from  his  cigarette,  but  he  did  not  turn  his  head. 
The  dressing-gong  boomed  through  the  hotel,  but  he  paid  no 
attention  to  it.  One  after  another  the  men  in  the  room  got 
up  and  sauntered  away,  but  Scott  remained  motionless, 
awaiting  his  brother's  pleasure. 

158 


The  Cup  of  Bitterness  159 

Sir  Eustace  finished  his  letter,  and  pulled  another  sheet 
of  paper  towards  him.  Scott  made  no  sign  of  impa- 
tience. 

Sir  Eustace  began  to  write  again,  paused,  wrote  a  few 
more  words,  then  suddenly  turned  in  his  chair.  They  were 
alone. 

"Oh,  what  the  devil  is  it? "  he  said  irritably.  " I  haven't 
any  time  to  waste  over  you.  What  do  you  want?" 

Scott  stood  up.  "It's  all  right,  old  chap,"  he  said 
gently.  "I'm  going.  I  only  came  in  to  tell  you  I  was 
sorry  for  all  the  beastly  things  I  said  to  you  last  night — 
this  morning,  rather.  I  lost  my  temper  which  was  fairly 
low  of  me,  considering  you  had  been  up  all  night  and  I 
hadn't." 

He  paused.  Eustace  was  looking  up  at  him  from  under 
frowning  brows,  his  blue  eyes  piercing  and  merciless. 

"It's  all  very  fine,  Stumpy,"  he  said,  after  a  moment. 
"Some  people  think  that  an  apology  more  than  atones  for 
the  offence.  I  don't." 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  Scott  quietly.  "But  it's  better 
than  nothing,  isn't  it?"  His  eyes  met  his  brother's  very 
steadily  and  openly.  His  attitude  was  unflinching. 

"It  depends,"  Eustace  rejoined  curtly.  "It  is  if  you 
mean  it.  If  you  don't,  it's  not  worth — that, "  with  a  snap 
of  the  fingers. 

"  I  do  mean  it, "  said  Scott,  flushing. 

"You  do?"  Eustace  looked  at  him  still  more  searchingly. 

"I  always  mean  what  I  say, "  Scott  returned  with  delib- 
eration. 

"And  you  meant  what  you  said  this  morning?"  Eustace 
pounced  without  mercy  upon  the  weak  spot. 

But  the  armour  was  proof.  Scott  remained  steadfast. 
"I  meant  it — yes.  But  I  might  have  put  it  in  a  different 
form.  I  lost  my  temper.  I  am  sorry." 

Eustace  continued  to  regard  him  with  a  straight,  un- 


160  Greatheart 

sparing  scrutiny.  "And  you  consider  that  to  be  the  sort 
of  apology  I  can  accept?"  he  asked,  after  a  moment. 

"I  think  you  might  accept  it,  old  chap,"  Scott  made 
pacific  rejoinder. 

Eustace  turned  back  to  the  table,  and  began  to  put  his 
papers  together.  "  I  might  do  many  things,  "  he  observed, 
"which,  not  being  a  weak-kneed  fool,  I  don't.  If  you  really 
wish  to  make  your  peace  with  me,  you  had  better  do  your 
best  to  make  amends — to  pull  with  me  and  not  against  me. 
For  I  warn  you,  Stumpy,  you  went  too  far  last  night. 
And  it  is  not  the  first  time." 

He  paused,  as  if  he  expected  a  disclaimer. 

Scott  waited  a  second  or  two;  then  with  a  very  winning 
movement  he  bent  and  laid  his  arm  across  his  brother's 
shoulders.  "Try  and  bear  with  me,  dear  chap ! "  he  said. 

His  voice  was  not  wholly  steady.  There  was  entreaty 
in  his  action. 

Eustace  made  a  sharp  gesture  of  surprise,  but  he  did  not 
repel  him.  There  fell  a  brief  silence  between  them;  then 
Scott's  hand  came  gently  down  and  closed  upon  his  brother's. 

"Life  isn't  so  confoundedly  easy  at  the  best  of  times," 
he  said,  speaking  almost  under  his  breath.  "I'm  generally 
philosopher  enough  to  take  it  as  it  comes.  But  just  lately 
—  "he  broke  off.  "Let  it  be  pax,  Eustace!"  he  urged  in  a 
whisper. 

Eustace's  hand  remained  for  a  moment  or  two  stiffly 
unresponsive;  then  very  suddenly  it  closed  and  held. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  he  said  gruffly. 

"Oh,  I'm  a  fool,  that's  all, "  Scott  answered,  and  uttered 
a  shaky  laugh.  ' '  Never  mind !  Forget  it  like  a  dear  fellow ! 
God  knows  I  don't  want  to  pull  against  you;  but,  old  chap, 
we  must  go  slow." 

It  was  the  conclusion  that  events  had  forced  upon 
Eustace  himself  during  the  night,  but  he  chafed  against 
acknowledging  it.  "There's  no  sense  in  drifting  on  in  the 


The  Cup  of  Bitterness  161 

same  old  hopeless  way  for  ever,"  he  said.  "We  have  got 
to  make  a  stand;  and  it's  now  or  never." 

"I  know.  But  we  must  have  patience  a  bit  longer. 
There  is  a  change  coming.  I  am  certain  of  it.  But — last 
night  has  thrown  her  back."  Scott  spoke  with  melancholy 
conviction. 

"You  gave  her  the  draught?"     Eustace  asked  sharply. 

"I  gave  her  a  sedative  only;  but  it  took  no  effect.  In 
the  middle  of  the  morning  she  was  still  in  the  same  un- 
satisfactory state,  and  I  gave  her  a  second  sedative.  After 
that  she  fell  asleep,  but  it  was  not  a  very  easy  sleep  for  a 
long  time.  This  afternoon  I  saw  Biddy  for  a  moment,  and 
she  told  me  she  seemed  much  more  comfortable.  The  poor 
old  thing  looked  tired  out,  and  I  told  her  to  get  a  rest  herself. 
She  said  she  would  lie  down  in  the  room.  If  it  hadn't  been 
for  this  concert  business,  I  would  have  relieved  her.  But 
they  couldn't  muster  anyone  to  take  my  place.  I  am  just 
going  up  now  to  see  how  she  is  getting  on." 

Scott  straightened  himself  slowly,  with  a  movement 
that  was  unconsciously  very  weary.  Eustace  gave  him  a 
keen  glance. 

"You're  wearing  yourself  out  over  her,  Stumpy,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  rot!"  Scott  smiled  upon  him,  a  light  that  was  boy- 
ishly affectionate  in  his  eyes.  "I'm  much  tougher  than  I 
look.  Thanks  for  being  decent  to  me,  old  chap!  I  don't 
deserve  it.  If  there  are  any  more  letters  to  be  written, 
bring  them  along,  and  I'll  attend  to  them  to-night  after  the 
concert." 

"No.  Not  this  lot.  I  shall  attend  to  them  myself." 
Eustace  got  up,  and  passed  a  hand  through  his  arm.  "You 
are  working  too  hard  and  sleeping  too  little.  I'm  going 
to  take  you  in  hand  and  put  a  stop  to  it." 

Scott  laughed.  "No,  no!  Thanks  all  the  same,  I'm 
better  left  alone.  Are  you  coming  to  the  show  to-night? 
The  beautiful  Miss  de  Vigne  is  going  to  sing." 


1 62  Greatheart 

Eustace  looked  supercilious.  "Is  there  anything  that 
young  lady  can't  do,  I  wonder?  Her  accomplishments 
are  legion.  She  told  me  yesterday  that  she  could  play  the 
guitar.  She  can  also  recite,  play  bridge,  and  take  cricket 
scores.  She  is  a  scratch  golf -player,  plays  a  good  game  of 
tennis,  rides  to  hounds,  and  visits  the  poor.  And  that  is 
by  no  means  a  complete  list.  I  don't  wonder  that  she 
gives  the  little  brown  girl  indigestion.  Her  perfection  is 
almost  nauseating  at  times." 

Scott  laughed  again.  It  was  a  relief  to  have  diverted 
his  brother's  attention  from  more  personal  subjects.  "She 
ought  to  suit  you  rather  well,"  he  observed.  "You  are 
something  of  the  perfect  knight  yourself.  I  heard  a  lady 
exclaim  only  yesterday  when  you  started  off  together  on 
that  ski-ing  expedition,  'What  a  positively  divine  couple! 
Apollo  and  Aphrodite!'  I  think  it  was  the  parson's  wife. 
You  couldn't  expect  her  to  know  much  about  heathen 
theology." 

"  Don't  make  me  sick  if  you  don't  mind ! "  said  Sir  Eustace. 
"Look  here,  my  friend!  We  shall  be  late  if  we  don't  go. 
You  can't  spend  long  with  Isabel,  if  you  are  to  turn  up 
in  time  for  this  precious  concert.  Hullo!  What's  the 
matter?" 

The  door  of  the  smoking-room  had  burst  suddenly  open, 
and  Colonel  de  Vigne,  very  red  in  the  face  and  as  agitated 
as  his  pomposity  would  allow,  stood  glaring  at  them. 

"So  you  are  here!"  he  exclaimed,  his  tone  an  odd  blend 
of  relief  and  anxiety. 

"Do  you  mean  me?"  said  Sir  Eustace,  with  a  touch  of 
haughtiness. 

"Yes,  sir,  you!  I  was  looking  for  you,"  explained  the 
Colonel,  pulling  himself  together.  "I  thought  perhaps 
you  might  be  able  to  give  me  some  idea  as  to  the  where- 
abouts of  my  young  charge,  Miss  Bathurst.  She  is 
missing." 


The  Cup  of  Bitterness  163 

Sir  Eustace  raised  his  black  brows.  "What  should  I 
know  about  her  whereabouts?"  he  said. 

Scott  broke  in  quickly.  "  I  saw  her  in  the  verandah  this 
afternoon  with  your  daughter." 

"I  know.  She  was  there."  The  Colonel  spoke  with 
brevity.  "Rose  left  her  there  talking  to  your  sister.  No 
one  seems  to  have  seen  her  since.  I  thought  she  might 
have  been  with  Sir  Eustace.  I  see  I  was  mistaken.  I 
apologize.  But  where  the  devil  can  she  be?" 

Sir  Eustace  raised  his  shoulders.  "She  was  certainly 
not  talking  to  my  sister,"  he  remarked.  "She  has  kept 
her  room  to-day.  Miss  Bathurst  is  probably  in  her  own 
room  dressing  for  dinner." 

"That's  just  where  she  isn't!"  exploded  the  Colonel. 
"I  missed  her  at  tea-time  but  thought  she  must  be  out. 
Now  her  brother  tells  me  that  he  has  been  all  over  the  place 
and  can't  find  her.  I  suppose  she  can't  be  upstairs  with  your 
sister?"  He  turned  to  Scott. 

"I'll  go  and  see,"  Scott  said.  "She  may  be — though 
I  doubt  it.  My  sister  was  not  so  well,  and  so  stayed  in  bed 
to-day." 

He  moved  towards  the  stairs  with  the  words;  but  ere  he 
reached  them  there  came  the  sound  of  a  sudden  commotion 
on  the  corridor  above,  and  a  wailing  voice  made  itself  heard. 

"  Miss  Isabel !  Miss  Isabel !  Wherever  are  you,  mavour- 
neen?  Ah,  what '11 1  do  at  all?  Miss  Isabel's  gone !" 

Old  Biddy  in  her  huge  white  apron  and  mob  cap  appeared 
at  the  top  of  the  staircase  and  came  hobbling  down  with 
skinny  hands  extended. 

"Ah,  Master  Scott — Master  Scott — may  the  saints  help 
us!  She's  gone!  She's  gone!  And  meself  sleeping  like  a 
hog  the  whole  afternoon  through!  I'll  never  forgive  me- 
self, Master  Scott, — never,  never!  Oh,  what'll  I  do?  I 
pray  the  Almighty  will  take  my  life  before  any  harm  comes 
to  her ! ' ' 


164  Greatheart 

She  reached  Scott  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  caught 
his  hand  hysterically  between  her  own. 

Sir  Eustace  strode  forward,  white  to  the  lips.  "Stop 
your  clatter,  woman,  and  answer  me!  How  did  Miss 
Isabel  get  away?  Is  she  dressed?" 

The  old  woman  cowered  back  from  the  blazing  wrath  in 
his  eyes.  "Yes,  your  honour!  No,  your  honour!  I  mean 
— Yes,  your  honour!"  she  stammered,  still  clinging  patheti- 
cally to  Scott.  "I  was  asleep,  ye  see.  I  never  knew — 
I  never  knew!" 

"How  long  did  you  sleep?"  demanded  Sir  Eustace. 

"And  how  am  I  to  tell  at  all?"  wailed  Biddy.  "It 
didn't  seem  like  five  minutes,  and  I  opened  me  eyes,  and 
she  was  all  quiet  in  the  dark.  And  I  said  to  meself ,  '  I 
won't  disturb  the  dear  lamb, '  and  I  crept  into  me  room 
and  tidied  meself,  and  made  a  cup  o'  tay.  And  still  she 
kept  so  quiet;  so  I  drank  me  tay  and  did  a  bit  of  work. 
And  then — just  a  minute  ago  it  was — I  crept  in  and  went 
to  her  thinking  it  was  time  she  woke  up, — and — and — 
and  she  wasn't  there,  your  honour.  The  bed  was  laid  up, 
and  she  was  gone!  Oh,  what '11  I  do  at  all?  What '11  I 
do?"  She  burst  into  wild  sobs,  and  hid  her  face  in  her 
apron. 

Two  or  three  people  were  standing  about  in  the  vestibule. 
They  looked  at  the  agitated  group  with  interest,  and  in  a 
moment  a  young  man  who  had  just  entered  came  up  to 
Scott. 

"I  believe  I  saw  your  sister  in  the  verandah  this  after- 
noon," he  said. 

"That's  just  what  Rose  said,"  broke  in  the  Colonel. 
"And  you  wouldn't  believe  me.  She  came  out,  and  Dinah 
went  to  speak  to  her.  And  now  the  two  of  them  are  missing. 
It's  obvious.  They  must  have  gone  off  together  some- 
where." 

"Not  up  the  mountain,  I  hope,"  the  young  man  said. 


The  Cup  of  Bitterness  165 

"That  is  probably  where  they  have  gone,"  Scott  said, 
speaking  for  the  first  time.  He  was  patting  Biddy's 
shoulder  with  compassionate  kindness.  "Why  do  you  say 
that?" 

"It's  just  begun  to  snow,"  the  other  answered.  '"And 
the  mist  up  the  mountain  path  is  thick." 

"Damnation!"  exclaimed  Sir  Eustace  furiously.  "And 
she  may  have  been  gone  for  hours!" 

"Miss  Bathurst  was  with  her,"  said  Scott.  "She  would 
keep  her  head.  I  am  certain  of  that."  He  turned  to  the 
Colonel  who  stood  fuming  by.  "  Hadn't  we  better  organize 
a  search-party  sir?  I  am  afraid  that  there  is  not  much 
doubt  that  they  have  gone  up  the  mountain.  My  sister, 
you  know — "  he  flushed  a  little — "my  sister  is  not  alto- 
gether responsible  for  her  actions.  She  would  not  realize 
the  danger." 

"But  surely  Dinah  wouldn't  be  such  a  little  fool  as  to 
go  too!"  burst  forth  the  Colonel.  "She's  sane  enough, 
when  she  isn't  larking  about  with  other  fools."  He  glared 
at  Sir  Eustace.  "And  how  the  devil  are  we  to  know  where 
to  look,  I'd  like  to  know?  We  can't  hunt  all  over  the 
Alps." 

"There  may  be  some  dogs  in  the  village,"  Scott  said. 
"There  is  certainly  a  guide.  I  will  go  down  at  once  and 
see  what  I  can  find." 

"No,  no,  Stumpy!  Not  you!"  Sharply  Sir  Eustace 
intervened.  "I  won't  have  you  go.  It's  not  your  job, 
and  you  are  not  fit  for  it."  He  laid  a  peremptory  hand  upon 
his  brother's  shoulder.  "That's  understood,  is  it?  You 
will  not  leave  the  hotel." 

He  spoke  with  stern  insistence,  looking  Scott  straight 
in  the  eyes;  and  after  a  moment  or  two  Scott  yielded  the 
point. 

"All  right,  old  chap!  I'm  not  much  good,  I  know.  But 
for  heaven's  sake,  lose  no  time." 


1 66  Greatheart 

"  No  time  will  be  lost."  Sir  Eustace  turned  round  upon 
the  Colonel.  "We  can't  have  any  but  young  men  on  this 
job,"  he  said.  "See  if  you  can  muster  two  or  three  to  go 
with  me,  will  you?  A  doctor  if  possible!  And  we  shall 
want  blankets  and  restoratives  and  lanterns.  Stumpy, 
you  can  see  to  that.  Yes,  and  send  for  a  guide  too  though 
he  won't  be  much  help  in  a  thick  mist.  And  take  that  wail- 
ing woman  away!  Have  everything  ready  for  us  when  we 
comeback!  They  can't  have  gone  very  far.  Isabel  hasn't 
the  strength.  I  shall  be  ready  immediately." 

He  turned  to  the  stairs  and  went  up  them  in  great  leaps, 
leaving  the  little  group  below  to  carry  out  his  orders. 

There  was  a  momentary  inaction  after  his  departure, 
then  Scott  limped  across  to  the  door  and  opened  it.  Thick 
darkness  met  him,  the  clammy  darkness  of  fog,  and  the 
faint,  faint  rustle  of  falling  snow. 

He  closed  the  door  and  turned  back,  meeting  the  Colonel's 
eyes.  "It's  hard  to  stay  behind,  sir,"  he  said. 

The  Colonel  nodded.  He  liked  Scott.  "  Yes,  infernally 
hard.  But  we'll  do  all  we  can.  Will  you  find  the  doctor 
and  get  the  necessaries  together  ?  I'll  see  to  the  rest . ' ' 

"Very  good,  sir;  I  will."  Scott  went  to  the  old  woman 
who  still  sobbed  piteously  into  her  apron.  "Come  along, 
Biddy!  There's  plenty  to  be  done.  Miss  Isabel's  room 
must  be  quite  ready  for  her  when  she  comes  back,  and  Miss 
Bathurst's  too.  We  shall  want  boiling  water — lots  of  it. 
That's  your  job.  Come  along!" 

He  urged  her  gently  to  the  stairs,  and  went  up  with  her, 
holding  her  arm. 

At  the  top  she  stopped  and  gave  him  an  anguished  look. 
"Ah,  Master  Scott  darlint,  will  the  Almighty  be  merciful? 
Will  He  bring  her  safe  back  again?" 

He  drew  her  gently  on.  "That's  another  thing  you  can 
do,  Biddy,"  he  said.  "Ask  Him!" 

And  before  his  look  Biddy  commanded  herself  and  grew 


The  Cup  of  Bitterness  167 

calmer.  "Faith,  Master  Scott,"  she  said,  "if  it  isn't  your- 
self that's  taught  me  the  greatest  lesson  of  all!" 

A  very  compassionate  smile  shone  in  Scott's  eyes  as  he 
passed  on  and  left  her.  "Poor  old  Biddy,"  he  murmured, 
as  he  went.  "It's  easy  to  preach  to  such  as  you.  But,  O 
God,  there's  no  denying  it's  bitter  work  for  those  who  stay 
behind!" 

He  knew  that  he  and  Biddy  were  destined  to  drink  that 
cup  of  bitterness  to  the  dregs  ere  the  night  passed. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE    VISION  OF  GREATHEART 

HPHE  darkness  of  the  night  lay  like  a  black  pall  upon 
A  the  mountain.  The  snow  was  falling  thickly,  and 
ever  more  thickly.  It  drifted  in  upon  Dinah,  as  she 
crouched  in  the  shelter  of  an  empty  shed  that  had  been 
placed  on  that  high  slope  for  the  protection  of  sheep  from 
the  spring  storms.  They  had  come  upon  this  shelter  just 
as  the  gloom  had  become  too  great  for  even  Isabel  to  regard 
further  progress  as  possible,  and  in  response  to  the  girl's 
insistence  they  had  crept  in  to  rest.  They  had  lost  the 
beaten  track  long  since;  neither  of  them  had  realized  when. 
But  the  certainty  that  they  had  done  so  had  had  its  effect 
upon  Isabel.  Her  energies  had  flagged  from  the  moment 
that  it  had  dawned  upon  her.  A  deadly  tiredness  had  come 
over  her,  a  feebleness  so  complete  that  Dinah  had  had 
difficulty  in  getting  her  into  the  shelter.  Return  was 
utterly  out  of  the  question.  They  were  hopelessly  lost, 
and  to  wander  in  that  densely  falling  snow  was  to  court 
disaster. 

Very  thankful  Dinah  had  been  to  find  even  so  poor  a 
refuge  in  that  waste  of  drifting  fog ;  but  now  as  she  huddled 
by  Isabel's  side  it  seemed  to  her  that  the  relief  afforded 
was  but  a  prolonging  of  their  agony.  The  cold  was  intense. 
It  seemed  to  penetrate  to  her  very  bones,  and  she  knew  by 
her  companion's  low  moaning  that  she  was  suffering  keenly 
also. 

168 


The  Vision  of  Greatheart  169 

Isabel  seemed  to  have  sunk  into  a  state  of  semi-con- 
sciousness, and  only  now  and  then  did  broken  words  escape 
her — words  scarcely  audible  to  Dinah,  but  which  testified 
none  the  less  to  the  bitterness  of  despair  that  had  come 
upon  her. 

She  sat  in  a  corner  of  the  desolate  place  with  Dinah  pressed 
close  to  her,  while  the  snow  drifted  in  through  the  door- 
less  entrance  and  sprinkled  them  both.  But  it  was  the 
darkness  rather  than  the  cold  or  the  snow  that  affected  the 
girl  as  she  crouched  there  with  her  arms  about  her  com- 
panion, striving  to  warm  and  shelter  her  while  she  herself  felt 
frozen  to  the  very  heart.  It  was  so  terrible,  so  monstrous, 
so  nerve-shattering.  And  the  silence  that  went  with  it  was 
like  a  nightmare  horror  to  her  shrinking  soul.  For  all 
Dinah's  sensibilities  were  painfully  on  the  alert.  No 
merciful  dulness  of  perception  came  to  her.  Responsibility 
had  awakened  in  her  a  nervous  energy  that  made  her  realize 
the  awfulness  of  their  position  with  appalling  vividness. 
That  they  could  possibly  survive  the  night  she  did  not 
believe.  And  Death — Death  in  that  fearful  darkness — 
was  a  terror  from  which  she  shrank  almost  in  panic. 

That  she  retained  command  of  her  quivering  nerves  was 
due  solely  to  the  fact  of  Isabel's  helplessness — Isabel's 
dependence  upon  her.  She  knew  that  while  she  had  any 
strength  left,  she  must  not  give  way.  She  must  be  brave. 
Their  sole  chance  of  rescue  hung  upon  that. 

Like  Scott,  she  thought  of  the  guide,  though  the  hope 
was  a  forlorn  one.  He  might  know  of  this  shelter;  but 
whether  in  the  awful  darkness  he  would  ever  be  able  to  find 
it  she  strongly  doubted.  Their  absence  must  have  been 
discovered  long  since,  she  was  sure ;  and  Scott — Scott  would 
be  certain  to  think  of  the  mountain  path.  He  would  re- 
member his  sister's  wild  words  of  the  day  before,  and  he 
would  know  that  she,  Dinah,  had  had  no  choice  but  to 
accompany  her  upon  the  mad  quest.  It  comforted  her  to 


170  Greatheart 

think  that  Scott  would  understand,  and  was  already  at 
work  to  help  them.  If  by  any  means  deliverance  could  be 
brought  to  them  she  knew  that  Scott  would  compass  it. 
His  quiet  and  capable  spirit  was  accustomed  to  grapple 
with  difficulties,  and  the  enormity  of  a  task  would  never 
dismay  him.  He  had  probably  organized  a  search-party 
long  ere  this.  He  would  not  rest  until  he  had  done  his 
very  utmost.  She  wondered  if  he  would  come  himself 
to  look  for  them;  but  discarded  the  idea  as  unlikely.  His 
infirmity  made  progress  on  the  mountains  a. difficult  matter 
at  all  times,  and  he  would  not  wish  to  hamper  the  move- 
ments of  the  others.  That  was  like  Scott,  she  reflected. 
He  would  always  keep  his  own  desires  in  the  background, 
subservient  to  the  needs  of  others.  No,  he  would  not  come 
himself.  He  would  stay  behind  in  torturing  inaction  while 
fitter  men  fared  forth. 

The  thought  of  Eustace  came  again  to  her.  He  would  be 
one  of  the  search-party.  She  pictured  him  forcing  his  way 
upwards,  all  his  magnificent  strength  bent  to  the  work. 
Her  heart  throbbed  at  the  memory  of  that  all-conquering 
presence — the  arms  that  had  held  her,  the  lips  that  had 
pressed  her  own.  And  he  had  stooped  to  plead  with  her 
also.  She  would  always  remember  that  of  him  with  a  thrill 
of  ecstasy.  He  the  princely  and  splendid — Apollo  the 
magnificent ! 

Always?  A  sudden  chill  smote  her  heart  numbing  her 
through  and  through.  Always?  And  Death  waiting  on 
the  threshold  to  snatch  her  away  from  the  wonderful  joy 
she  had  only  just  begun  to  know!  Always!  Ah,  would 
she  remember  even  to-morrow — even  to-morrow  ?  And  he 
— would  he  not  forget? 

Isabel  stirred  in  her  arms  and  murmured  an  inarticulate 
complaint.  Tenderly  she  drew  her  closer.  How  cold  it 
was!  How  cruelly,  how  bitingly  cold!  All  her  bones  were 
beginning  to  ache.  A  dreadful  stiffness  was  creeping  over 


The  Vision  of  Greatheart  171 

her.  How  long  would  her  senses  hold  out,  she  wondered 
piteously?  How  long?  How  long? 

It  must  be  hours  now  since  they  had  entered  that  freezing 
place,  and  with  every  minute  it  seemed  to  be  growing  colder. 
Never  in  her  life  had  she  imagined  anything  so  searching,  so 
agonizing,  as  this  cold.  It  held  her  in  an  iron  rigour  against 
which  she  was  powerless  to  struggle.  The  strength  to 
clasp  Isabel  in  her  arms  was  leaving  her.  She  thought  that 
her  numbed  limbs  were  gradually  turning  to  stone.  Even 
her  lips  were  so  numbed  with  cold  that  she  could  not  move 
them.  The  steam  of  her  breath  had  turned  to  ice  upon  the 
wool  of  her  coat. 

The  need  for  prayer  came  upon  her  suddenly  as  she 
realized  that  her  faculties  were  failing.  Her  belief  in  God 
was  of  that  dim  and  far-off  description  that  brings  awe 
rather  than  comfort  to  the  soul.  The  sudden  thought  of 
Him  came  upon  her  in  the  darkness  like  a  thunderbolt. 
In  all  her  life  Dinah  had  never  asked  for  anything  outside 
her  daily  prayers  which  were  of  a  strictly  formal  descrip- 
tion. She  had  shouldered  her  own  troubles  unassisted  with 
the  philosophy  of  a  disposition  that  was  essentially  happy. 
She  had  seldom  given  a  serious  thought  to  the  life  of  the 
spirit.  It  was  all  so  vague  to  her,  so  far  removed  from  the 
'daily  round  and  the  daily  burden.  But  now — face  to  face 
with  the  coming  night — the  spiritual  awoke  in  her.  Her 
soul  cried  out  for  comfort. 

With  Isabel  still  clasped  in  her  failing  arms,  she  began 
a  desperate  prayer  for  help.  Her  words  came  haltingly. 
They  sounded  strange  to  herself.  But  with  all  the  strength 
that  remained  she  sent  forth  her  cry  to  the  Infinite.  And 
even  as  she  prayed  there  came  to  her — whence  she  knew 
not — the  conviction  that  somewhere — probably  not  more 
than  a  couple  of  miles  from  her  though  the  darkness  made 
the  distance  seem  immeasurable — Scott  was  praying  too. 
That  thought  had  a  wonderfully  comforting  effect  upon 


172  Greatheart 

her.  His  prayer  was  so  much  more  likely  to  be  answered 
than  hers.  He  was  just  the  sort  of  man  who  would  know 
how  to  pray. 

"How  I  wish  he  were  here!"  she  whispered  piteously 
into  the  darkness.  "I  shouldn't  be  afraid  of  dying — if 
only  he  were  here." 

She  was  certain — quite  certain — that  had  he  been  there 
with  her,  no  fear  would  have  reached  her.  He  wore  the 
armour  of  a  strong  man,  and  by  it  he  would  have  shielded 
her  also. 

"Oh,  dear  Mr.  Greatheart,"  she  murmured  through  her 
numb  lips,  "I'm  sure  you  know  the  way  to  Heaven." 

Isabel  stirred  again  as  one  who  moves  in  restless  slumber. 
"We  must  scale  the  peaks  of  Paradise  to  reach  it,"  she 
said. 

"Are  you  awake,  dearest?"  asked  Dinah  very  tenderly. 

Isabel's  head  was  sunk  against  her  shoulder.  She  moved 
it,  slightly  raised  it.  "Yes,  I  am  awake, "  she  said.  "  I  am 
watching  for  the  dawn." 

"It  won't  come  yet,"  whispered  Dinah  tremulously. 
"It's  a  long,  long  way  off." 

Isabel  moved  a  little  more,  feeling  for  Dinah  in  the 
darkness.  "Are  you  frightened,  little  one?"  she  said. 
"Don't  be  frightened!" 

Dinah  swallowed  down  a  sob.  "It  is  so  dark,"  she 
murmured  through  chattering  teeth.  "And  so,  so  cold." 

"You  are  cold,  dear  heart?"  Isabel  sat  up  suddenly. 
"Why  should  you  be  cold?"  she  said.  "The  darkness  is 
nothing  to  those  who  are  used  to  it.  I  have  lived  in  outer 
darkness  for  seven  weary  years.  But  now — now  I  think 
the  day  is  drawing  near  at  last." 

With  an  energy  that  astounded  Dinah  she  got  upon  her 
knees  and  by  her  movements  she  realized,  albeit  too  late, 
that  she  was  divesting  herself  of  the  long  purple  coat. 

With  all  her  strength  she  sought  to  frustrate  her,  but 


The  Vision  of  Greatheart  173 

her  strength  had  become  very  feebleness;  and  when,  despite 
resistance,  Isabel  wrapped  her  round  in  the  garment  she  had 
discarded,  her  resistance  was  too  puny  to  take  effect. 

"My  dear,"  Isabel  said,  in  her  voice  the  deep  music  of 
maternal  tenderness,  "I  am  not  needing  it.  I  shall  not 
need  any  earthly  things  for  long.  I  am  going  to  meet 
my  husband  in  the  dawning.  But  you — you  will  go 
back." 

She  fastened  the  coat  with  a  quiet  dexterity  that  made 
Dinah  think  again  of  Scott,  and  sat  down  again  in  her 
corner  as  if  unconscious  of  the  cold. 

"Come  and  lie  in  my  arms,  little  one!"  she  said.  "Per- 
haps you  will  be  able  to  sleep." 

Dinah  crept  close.  "It  will  kill  you — it  will  kill  you!" 
she  sobbed.  "Oh,  why  did  I  let  you?" 

Isabel's  arms  closed  about  her.  "Don't  cry,  dear!"  she 
murmured  fondly.  "  It  is  nothing  to  me.  A  little  sooner — 
a  little  later !  If  you  had  suffered  what  I  have  suffered  you 
would  say  as  I  do,  'Dear  God,  let  it  be  soon!'  There! 
Put  your  head  on  my  shoulder,  dear  child !  See  if  you  can 
get  a  little  sleep!  You  have  cared  for  me  long  enough. 
Now  I  am  going  to  care  for  you." 

With  loving  words  she  soothed  her,  calming  her  as 
though  she  had  been  a  child  in  nightmare  terror,  and 
gradually  a  certain  peace  began  to  still  the  horror  in  Dinah's 
soul.  An  unmistakable  drowsiness  was  stealing  over  her,  a 
merciful  lethargy  lulling  the  sensibilities  that  had  been  so 
acutely  tried.  Her  weakness  was  merging  into  a  sense  of 
almost  blissful  repose.  She  was  no  longer  conscious  of 
the  anguish  of  the  cold.  Neither  did  the  darkness  trouble 
her.  And  the  comfort  of  Isabel's  arms  was  rest  to  her 
spirit. 

As  one  who  wanders  in  a  golden  maze  she  began  to  dream 
strange  dreams  that  yet  were  not  woven  by  the  hand  of  sleep. 
Dimly  she  saw  as  down  a  long  perspective  a  knight  in  golden 


174  Greatheart 

armour  climbing,  ever  climbing,  the  peaks  of  Paradise, 
from  which,  as  from  an  eagle's  nest,  she  watched  his  difficult 
but  untiring  progress.  She  thought  he  halted  somewhat 
in  the  ascent — which  was  unlike  Apollo,  who  walked  as  walk 
the  gods  with  a  gait  both  arrogant  and  assured.  But  still 
he  came  on,  persistently,  resolutely,  carrying  his  golden 
shield  before  him. 

His  visor  was  down,  and  she  wished  that  he  would 
raise  it.  She  yearned  for  the  sight  of  that  splendid  face 
with  its  knightly  features  and  blue,  fiery  eyes.  She  pic- 
tured it  to  herself  as  he  came,  but  somehow  it  did  not  seem 
to  fit  that  patient  climbing  figure. 

And  then  as  he  gradually  drew  nearer,  the  thought  came 
to  her  to  go  and  meet  him,  and  she  started  to  run  down  the 
slope.  She  reached  him.  She  gave  him  both  her  hands. 
She  was  ready — she  was  eager — to  be  drawn  into  his 
arms. 

But  he  did  not  so  draw  her.  To  her  amazement  he  only 
bowed  himself  before  her  and  stretched  forth  the  shield  he 
bore  that  it  might  cover  them  both. 

"It  is  Mr.  Greatheart!"  she  said  to  herself  in  wonder. 
"Of  course — it  is  Mr.  Greatheart!" 

And  then,  while  she  still  gazed  upon  the  glittering, 
princely  form,  he  put  up  a  hand  and  lifted  the  visor. 
And  she  saw  the  kindly,  steadfast  eyes  all  kindled  and 
alight  with  a  glory  before  which  instinctively  she  hid  her 
own.  Never — no,  never — had  she  dreamed  before  that 
any  man  could  look  at  her  so!  It  was  not  passion  that 
those  eyes  held  for  her; — it  was  worship. 

She  stood  with  bated  breath  and  throbbing  heart,  waiting, 
waiting,  as  one  in  the  presence  of  a  vision,  who  longs — yet 
fears — to  look.  And  while  she  waited  she  knew  that  the 
sun  was  shining  upon  them  both  with  a  glowing  warmth 
that  filled  her  soul  abrim  with  such  a  rapture  as  she  had 
never  known  before. 


The  Vision  of  Greatheart  175 

"How  wonderful!"  she  murmured  to  herself.  "How 
wonderful!" 

And  then  at  last  she  summoned  courage  to  look  up,  and 
all  in  a  moment  her  vision  was  shattered.  The  darkness 
was  all  about  her  again;  Greatheart  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  RETURN 

WHAT  happened  after  the  passing  of  her  vision  Dinah 
never  fully  knew,  so  slack  had  become  her  grip 
upon  material  things.  Her  spirit  seemed  to  be  wandering 
aimlessly  about  the  mountain-side  while  her  body  lay 
in  icy  chains  within  that  miserable  shelter.  Of  Isabel's 
presence  she  was  no  longer  even  dimly  aware,  and  she  knew 
neither  fear  nor  pain,  only  a  wide  desolation  of  emptiness 
that  encompassed  her  as  atmosphere  encompasses  the 
world. 

Sometimes  she  fancied  that  the  sound  of  voices  came 
muffled  through  the  fog  that  hung  impenetrably  upon  the 
great  slope.  And  when  this  fancy  caught  her,  her  spirit 
drifted  back  very  swiftly  to  the  near  neighbourhood  of  that 
inert  and  frozen  body  that  lay  so  helpless  in  the  dark.  For 
that  strange  freedom  of  the  spirit  seemed  to  her  to  be  highly 
dangerous  and  in  a  fashion  wrong.  It  would  be  a  terrible 
thing  if  they  found  and  buried  the  body,  and  the  spirit  were 
left  alone  to  wander  for  ever  homeless  on  that  desolate 
mountain-side.  She  could  not  imagine  a  fate  more  awful. 

At  the  same  time,  being  free  from  the  body,  she  knew  no 
physical  pain,  and  she  shrank  from  returning  before  she 
need,  knowing  well  the  anguish  of  suffering  that  awaited 
her.  The  desolation  and  loneliness  made  her  unhappy  in  a 
vague  and  not  very  comprehensible  fashion,  but  she  did 
not  suffer  actively.  That  would  come  later  when  return 

176 


The  Return  177 

became  imperative.  Till  then  she  flitted  to  and  fro,  intang- 
ible as  gossamer,  elusive  as  the  snow.  She  wondered  what 
Apollo  would  say  if  he  could  see  her  thus.  Even  he  would 
fail  to  catch  her  now.  She  pictured  the  strong  arms  clos- 
ing upon  her,  and  clasping — emptiness.  That  thought 
made  her  a  little  cold,  and  sent  her  floating  back  to  make 
sure  that  the  lifeless  body  was  still  there. 

And  as  she  went,  drifting  through  the  silence,  there 
came  to  her  the  thought  that  Scott  would  be  unutter- 
ably shocked  if  they  brought  her  back  to  him  dead.  It  was 
strange  how  the  memory  of  him  haunted  her  that  night.  It 
almost  seemed  as  if  his  spirit  were  out  there  in  the  great 
waste,  seeking  hers. 

She  reached  the  shelter  and  entered,  borne  upon  snow- 
flakes.  Yes,  the  body  was  still  there.  She  hovered  over  it 
like  a  bird  over  its  nest.  For  Scott's  sake,  should  she  not 
return? 

And  then  very  suddenly  there  came  a  great  sound  close 
to  her — the  loud  barking  of  a  dog; — and  in  a  second- 
in  less — she  had  returned. 

A  long,  long  shiver  went  through  the  poor  frozen  thing 
that  was  herself,  and  she  knew  that  she  moaned  as  one 
awaking.  .  .  . 

Vaguely,  through  dulled  senses,  she  heard  the  great 
barking  yet  again,  and  something  immense  that  was  furry 
and  soft  brushed  against  her.  She  heard  the  panting  of  a 
large  animal  close  to  her  in  the  hut,  and  very  feebly  she 
put  out  a  hand. 

She  did  not  like  that  loud  baying.  It  went  through  and 
through  her  brain.  She  was  not  frightened,  only  dreadfully 
tired.  And  now  that  she  was  back  again  in  the  body,  she 
longed  unspeakably  to  sleep. 

But  the  noise  continued,  a  perfect  clamour  of  sound; 
and  soon  there  came  other  sounds,  the  shouting  of  men, 
the  muffled  tread  of  feet  sorely  hampered  by  snow.  A  dim 


178  Greatheart 

light  began  to  shine,  and  gradually  increased  till  it  became  a 
single,  piercing  eye  that  swept  searchingly  around  the 
wretched  shelter.  An  arc  of  fog  surrounded  it,  obscuring 
all  besides. 

Dinah  gazed  wide-eyed  at  that  dazzling  arc,  wondering 
numbly,  whence  it  came.  It  drew  nearer  to  her.  Its 
brightness  became  intolerable.  She  tried  to  shut  her  eyes, 
but  the  lids  felt  too  stiff  to  move.  Again,  more  feebly,  she 
moved  her  hand.  It  would  be  terrible  if  they  thought  her 
dead,  especially  after  all  the  trouble  she  had  taken  to  return. 

And  then  very  suddenly  the  deadly  lethargy  passed 
from  her.  All  her  nerves  were  pricked  into  activity.  For 
someone — someone — was  kneeling  beside  her.  She  felt 
herself  gathered  into  strong  arms. 

"Quick,  Wetherby!  The  brandy!"  Ah,  well  she  knew 
those  brief,  peremptory  tones !  "  My  God!  We're  only  just 
in  time!" 

Fast  pressed  against  a  man's  heart,  a  faint,  faint  warmth 
went  through  her.  She  knew  an  instant  of  perfect  seren- 
ity; but  the  next  she  uttered  a  piteous  cry  of  pain.  For 
fire — liquid,  agonizing — was  on  her  bloodless  lips  and  in  her 
mouth.  It  burned  its  ruthless  way  down  her  throat,  setting 
her  whole  body  tingling,  waking  afresh  in  her  the  power  to 
suffer. 

She  turned,  weakly  gasping,  and  hid  her  face  upon  the 
breast  that  supported  her. 

Instantly  she  felt  herself  clasped  more  closely.  "It's 
all  right,  little  darling,  all  right!"  he  whispered  to  her  with 
an  almost  fierce  tenderness.  "Take  it  like  a  good  child! 
It'll  pull  you  through." 

With  steady  insistence  he  turned  her  face  back  again, 
chafing  her  icy  cheek  hard.  And  in  a  moment  or  two 
another  burning  dose  was  on  its  way. 

It  made  her  choke  and  gurgle,  but  it  did  its  work.  The 
frozen  heart  of  her  began  to  beat  again  with  great 


The  Return  179 

jerks  and  bounds,  sending  quivering  shocks  throughout  her 
body. 

She  tried  to  speak  to  him,  to  whisper  his  name;  but  she 
could  only  gasp  and  gasp  against  his  breast,  and  presently 
from  very  weakness  she  began  to  cry. 

He  gathered  her  closer  still,  murmuring  fond  words, 
while  he  rubbed  her  face  and  hands,  imparting  the  warmth 
of  his  own  body  to  hers.  His  presence  was  like  a  fiery  es- 
sence encompassing  her.  Lying  there  against  his  heart,  she 
felt  the  tide  of  life  turn  in  her  veins  and  steadily  flow  again. 
Like  a  child,  she  clung  to  him,  and  after  a  while,  with  an 
impulse  sublimely  natural,  she  lifted  her  lips  to  his. 

He  pressed  his  lips  upon  them  closely,  lingeringly. 
"Better  now,  sweetheart?"  he  whispered. 

And  she,  clinging  to  him,  found  voice  to  answer,  "No- 
thing matters  now  you  have  come." 

The  consciousness  of  his  protecting  care  filled  her  with  a 
rapture  almost  too  great  to  be  borne.  She  throbbed  in  his 
arms,  pressing  closer,  ever  closer.  And  the  grim  Shadow 
of  Death  receded  from  the  threshold.  She  knew  that  she 
was  safe. 

It  was  soon  after  this  that  the  thought  of  Isabel  came  to 
her,  and  tremulously  she  begged  him  to  go  to  her.  But  he 
would  not  suffer  her  out  of  his  arms. 

"The  others  can  see  to  her,"  he  said.  "You  are  my 
care." 

She  thrilled  at  the  words,  but  she  would  not  be  satisfied. 
"She  has  been  so  good  to  me,"  she  told  him  pleadingly. 
"See,  I  am  wearing  her  coat." 

"But  for  her  you  would  never  have  come  to  this,"  he 
made  brief  reply,  and  she  thought  his  words  were  stern. 

Then,  as  she  would  not  be  pacified,  he  lifted  her  like  a 
child  and  held  her  so  that  she  could  look  down  upon  Isabel, 
lying  inert  and  senseless  against  the  doctor's  knee. 

"Oh,  is  she  dead?"  whispered  Dinah,  awe-struck. 


i8o  Greatheart 

"I  don't  know,"  he  made  answer,  and  by  the  tightening 
of  his  arms  she  knew  that  her  safety  meant  more  to  him  at 
the  moment  than  that  of  Isabel  or  anyone  else  in  the  world. 

But  in  a  second  or  two  she  heard  Isabel  moan,  and  was 
reassured. 

"  She  is  coming  round, "  the  doctor  said.  "  She  is  not  so 
far  gone  as  the  other  lassie." 

Dinah  wondered  hazily  what  he  could  mean,  wondered 
if  by  any  chance  he  suspected  that  long  and  dreary  wander- 
ing of  her  spirit  up  and  down  the  mountain-side.  She 
nestled  her  head  down  against  Eustace's  shoulder  with  a 
feeling  of  unutterable  thankfulness  that  she  had  returned 
in  time. 

Her  impressions  after  that  were  of  a  very  dim  and  sha- 
dowy description.  She  supposed  the  brandy  had  made  her 
sleepy.  Very  soon  she  drifted  off  into  a  state  of  semi- 
consciousness  in  which  she  realized  nothing  but  the  strong 
holding  of  his  arms.  She  even  vaguely  wondered  after  a 
time  whether  this  also  were  not  a  dream,  for  other  fantasies 
began  to  crowd  about  her.  She  rocked  on  a  sea  of  strange 
happenings  on  which  she  found  it  impossible  to  focus  her 
mind.  It  seemed  to  have  broken  adrift  as  it  were — a 
rudderless  boat  in  a  gale.  But  still  that  sense  of  security 
never  wholly  left  her.  Dreaming  or  waking,  the  force  of  his 
personality  remained  with  her. 

It  must  have  been  hours  later,  she  reflected  afterwards, 
that  she  heard  the  Colonel's  voice  exclaim  hoarsely  over  her 
head,  "In  heaven's  name,  say  she  isn't  dead!" 

And,  "Of  course  she  isn't, "  came  Eustace's  curt  response. 
"Should  I  be  carrying  her  if  she  were?" 

She  tried  to  open  her  eyes,  but  could  not.  They  seemed 
to  be  weighted  down.  But  she  did  very  feebly  close  her 
numbed  hands  about  Eustace's  coat.  Emphatically  she  did 
not  want  to  be  handed  over  like  a  bale  of  goods  to  the 
Colonel. 


The  Return  181 

He  clasped  her  to  him  reassuringly,  and  presently  she 
knew  that  he  bore  her  upstairs,  holding  her  comfortably 
close  all  the  way. 

"Don't  go  away  from  me!"  she  begged  him  weakly. 

"  Not  so  long  as  you  want  me,  little  sweetheart, "  he  made 
answer.  But  her  woman's  heart  told  her  that  a  parting  was 
imminent  notwithstanding. 

In  all  her  life  she  had  never  had  so  much  attention  before. 
She  seemed  to  have  entered  upon  a  new  and  amazing  phase 
of  existence.  Colonel  de  Vigne  faded  completely  into  the 
background,  and  she  found  herself  in  the  care  of  Biddy 
and  the  doctor.  Eustace  left  her  with  a  low  promise  to 
return,  and  she  had  to  be  satisfied  with  that  thought  though 
she  would  fain  have  clung  to  him  still. 

They  undressed  her  and  put  her  into  a  hot  bath  that  did 
much  to  lessen  the  numb  constriction  of  her  limbs,  though 
it  brought  also  the  most  agonizing  pain  she  had  ever 
known.  When  it  was  over,  the  limit  of  her  endurance  was 
long  past;  and  she  lay  in  hot  blankets  weeping  helplessly 
while  Biddy  tried  in  vain  to  persuade  her  to  drink  some 
scalding  mixture  that  she  swore  would  make  her  feel  as  gay 
as  a  lark. 

In  the  midst  of  this,  someone  entered  quietly  and  stood 
beside  her;  and  all  in  a  moment  there  came  to  Dinah  the 
consciousness  of  an  unknown  force  very  strangely  uplifting 
her.  She  looked  up  with  a  quivering  smile  in  the  midst  of 
her  tears. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Greatheart,"  she  whispered  brokenly,  "is  it 
you?" 

He  smiled  down  upon  her,  and  took  the  cup  from  Biddy's 
shaky  old  hand. 

" May  I  give  you  this?"  he  said. 

Dinah  was  filled  with  gratified  confusion.  "Oh,  please, 
you  mustn't  trouble !  But — how  very  kind  of  you ! ' ' 

He  took  Biddy's  place  by  her  side.     His  eyes  were  shining 


1 82  Greatheart 

with  an  odd  brilliance,  almost,  she  thought  to  herself 
wonderingly,  as  if  they  held  tears.  A  sharp  misgiving  went 
through  her.  How  was  it  they  were  bestowing  so  much 
care  upon  her,  unless  Isabel — Isabel — 

She  did  not  dare  to  put  her  doubt  into  words,  but  he 
read  it  and  instantly  answered  it.  "Don't  be  anxious!" 
he  said  in  his  kindly,  tired  voice.  "All  is  well.  Isabel  is 
asleep — actually  sleeping  quietly  without  any  draught. 
The  doctor  is  quite  satisfied  about  her. " 

He  spoke  the  simple  truth,  she  knew;  he  was  incapable  of 
doing  anything  else.  A  great  wave  of  thankfulness  went 
through  her,  obliterating  the  worst  of  her  misery. 

"I  am  so  glad,"  she  told  him  weakly.  "I  was — so 
dreadfully  afraid.  I — I  had  to  go  with  her,  Mr.  Studley. 
I  do  hope  everyone  understands." 

"  Everyone  does, "  he  made  answer  gently.  "  Now  let  me 
give  you  this,  and  then  you  must  sleep  too." 

She  drank  from  the  cup  he  held,  and  felt  revived. 

He  did  not  speak  again  till  she  had  finished;  then  he 
leaned  slightly  towards  her,  and  spoke  with  great  earnest- 
ness. "Miss  Bathurst,  do  you  realize,  I  wonder,  that  you 
saved  my  sister's  life  by  going  with  her?  I  do;  and  I  shall 
never  forget  it." 

She  was  sure  now  that  she  caught  the  gleam  of  tears  in 
the  grey  eyes.  She  slipped  her  hands  out  to  him.  "  I  only 
did  what  I  could,"  she  murmured  confusedly.  "Anyone 
would  have  done  it.  And  please,  Mr.  Greatheart,  will  you 
call  me  Dinah?" 

"Or  Mercy?"  he  suggested  smiling,  her  hands  clasped 
close  in  his. 

She  smiled  back  with  shy  confidence.  The  memory  of  her 
dream  was  in  her  mind,  but  she  could  not  tell  him  of  that. 

"No,"  she  said.  "Just  Dinah.  I'm  not  nice  enough  to 
be  called  anything  else.  And  thank  you — thank  you  for 
being  so  good  to  me. " 


The  Return  183 

"My  dear  child,"  he  made  quiet  reply,  "no  one  who 
really  knows  you  could  be  anything  else." 

"Oh,  don't  you  think  they  could?"  said  Dinah  wistfully. 
"I  wish  there  were  more  people  in  the  world  like  you." 

"No  one  ever  thought  of  saying  that  to  me  before,"  said 
Scott. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW 

AFTER  that  interview  with  Scott  there  followed  a  long, 
long  period  of  pain  and  weakness  for  Dinah.  She 
who  had  never  known  before  what  it  meant  to  be  ill  went 
down  to  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  and  lingered  there  for 
many  days  and  nights.  And  there  came  a  time  when 
those  who  watched  beside  her  began  to  despair  of  her  ever 
turning  back. 

So  completely  had  she  lost  touch  with  the  ordinary  things 
of  life  that  she  knew  but  little  of  what  went  on  around  her, 
dwelling  as  it  were  apart,  conscious  sometimes  of  agonizing 
pain,  but  more  often  of  a  dreadful  sinking  as  of  one  over- 
whelmed in  the  billows  of  an  everlasting  sea.  At  such 
times  she  would  cling  piteously  to  any  succouring  hand,  cry- 
ing to  them  to  hold  her  up — only  to  hold  her  up.  And  if 
the  hand  were  the  hand  of  Greatheart,  she  always  found 
comfort  at  length  and  a  sense  of  security  that  none  other 
could  impart. 

Her  fancy  played  about  him  very  curiously  in  those 
days.  She  saw  him  in  many  guises, — as  prince,  as  knight, 
as  magician;  but  never  as  the  mean  and  insignificant  figure 
which  first  had  caught  her  attention  on  that  sunny  morn- 
ing before  the  fancy-dress  ball. 

This  man  who  sat  beside  her  bed  of  suffering  for  hours 
together  because  she  fretted  when  he  went  away,  who  held 
her  up  when  the  gathering  billows  threatened  to  overwhelm 

184 


The  Valley  of  the  Shadow  185 

her  fainting  soul,  who  prayed  for  her  with  the  utmost  sim- 
plicity when  she  told  him  piteously  that  she  could  not  pray 
for  herself,  this  man  was  above  and  beyond  all  ordinary 
standards.  She  looked  up  to  him  with  reverence,  as  one 
of  colossal  strength  who  had  power  with  God. 

But  she  never  dreamed  again  that  golden  dream  of 
Greatheart  in  his  shining  armour  with  the  light  of  a  great 
worship  in  his  eyes.  That  had  been  a  wild  flight  of  pre- 
sumptuous fancy  that  never  could  come  true. 

His  was  not  the  only  hand  to  which  she  clung  during 
those  terrible  days  of  fear  and  suffering.  Another  presence 
was  almost  constantly  beside  her  night  and  day, — a  tender, 
motherly  presence  that  watched  over  and  ministered  to  her 
with  a  devotion  that  never  slackened.  For  some  time  Dinah 
'could  not  find  a  name  for  this  gracious  and  comforting 
presence,  but  one  day  when  a  figure  clothed  in  a  violet  dress- 
ing-gown stooped  over  her  to  give  her  nourishment  an 
illuminating  memory  came  to  her,  and  from  that  moment 
this  loving  nurse  of  hers  filled  a  particular  niche  in  her 
heart  which  was  dedicated  to  the  Purple  Empress.  She 
could  think  of  no  other  name  for  her.  That  quiet  and 
stately  presence  seemed  to  demand  a  royal  appellation. 
In  her  calmer  moments  Dinah  liked  to  lie  and  watch  the 
still  face  with  its  crown  of  silvery  hair.  She  loved  the  touch 
of  the  white  hands  that  always  knew  with  unerring  intuition 
exactly  what  needed  to  be  done.  There  seemed  to  be  heal- 
ing in  their  touch. 

Very  strangely  the  thought  of  Eustace  never  came  to  her, 
or  coming,  but  flitted  unrecorded  and  undetained  across 
the  surface  of  her  mind.  He  had  receded  with  all  the 
rest  of  the  world  into  the  far,  far  distance  that  lay  behind 
her.  He  had  no  place  in  this  region  of  many  shadows  where 
these  others  so  tenderly  guided  her  wandering  feet.  No 
one  else  had  any  place  there  save  old  Biddy  who,  being 
never  absent,  seemed  a  part  of  the  atmosphere,  and  the 


1 86  Greatheart 

doctor  who  came  and  went  like  a  presiding  genie  in  that 
waste  of  desolation. 

She  did  not  welcome  his  visits,  although  he  was  invariably 
kind,  for  on  one  occasion  she  caught  a  low  murmur  from 
him  to  the  effect  that  her  mother  had  better  come  to  her, 
and  this  suggestion  had  thrown  her  into  a  most  painful 
state  of  apprehension.  She  had  implored  them  weeping  to 
let  her  mother  stay  away,  and  they  had  hushed  her  with 
soothing  promises;  but  she  never  saw  the  doctor  thereafter 
without  a  nervous  dread  that  she  might  also  see  her  mother's 
gaunt  figure  accompanying  him.  And  she  was  sure — quite 
sure — that  her  mother  would  be  very  angry  with  her  when 
she  saw  her  helplessness. 

Nightmares  of  her  mother's  advent  began  to  trouble  her. 
She  would  start  up  in  anguish  of  soul,  scarcely  believing  in 
the  soothing  arms  that  held  her  till  their  tenderness  hushed 
her  back  to  calmness. 

"No  one  can  come  to  you,  sweetheart,  while  I  am  here. " 
How  often  she  heard  the  low  words  murmured  lovingly 
over  her  head!  "See,  I  am  holding  you!  You  are  quite 
safe.  No  one  can  take  you  from  me. " 

And  Dinah  would  cling  to  her  beloved  empress  till  her 
panic  died  away. 

On  one  of  these  occasions  Scott  was  present,,  and  he 
presently  left  the  sick-room  with  a  look  in  his  eyes  that 
gave  him  a  curiously  hard  expression.  He  went  deliber- 
ately in  search  of  Billy  whom  he  found  playing  a  not  very 
spirited  game  with  the  two  little  daughters  of  the  establish- 
ment. The  weather  had  broken,  and  several  people  had 
left  in  consequence. 

Billy  was  bored  as  well  as  anxious,  and  his  attitude  said  as 
much  as  he  unceremoniously  left  his  small  playfellows  to 
join  Scott. 

"Just  amusin'  the  kids,"  he  observed  explanatorily. 
"How  is  she  now?" 


The  Valley  of  the  Shadow  187 

Scott  linked  his  hand  in  the  boy's  arm.  "She's  pretty 
bad,  Billy,"  he  said.  "Both  lungs  are  affected.  The 
doctor  thinks  badly  of  her,  though  he  still  hopes  he  may  pull 
her  through." 

"You  may  you  mean,"  returned  Billy.  "Can't  say  the 
de  Vignes  have  put  themselves  out  at  all  over  her.  There's 
Rose  flirts  all  day  long  with  your  brother,  and  Lady  Grace 
grumbling  continually  about  the  folly  of  undertaking  other 
people's  responsibilities.  She  swears  she  must  get  back  at 
the  end  of  next  week  for  their  precious  house-party.  And 
the  Colonel  fumes  and  says  the  same.  I  told  him  I  shouldn't 
go  unless  she  was  out  of  danger,  though  goodness  knows,  sir, 
I  don't  want  to  sponge  on  you." 

Scott's  hand  pressed  his  arm  reassuringly.  "Don't 
imagine  such  a  thing  possible!"  he  said.  "Of  course  you 
must  stay  if  she  isn't  very  much  better  by  that  time.  But 
now,  Billy,  tell  me — if  it  isn't  an  unwelcome  question — why 
doesn't  your  sister  want  your  mother  to  come  to  her?" 

Billy  gave  him  one  of  his  shrewd  glances.  "She's 
told  you  that,  has  she  ?  Well,  you  know  the  mater  is  rather 
a  queer  fish,  and  I  doubt  very  much  if  she'd  come  if  you 
asked  her. " 

"  My  good  fellow!"  Scott  said.     "  Not  if  she  were  dying? " 

"I  doubt  it,"  said  Billy,  unmoved.  "You  see,  the 
mater  hasn't  much  use  for  Dinah,  except  as  a  maid-of-all 
work.  Never  has  had.  It's  not  altogether  her  fault.  It's 
just  the  way  she's  made." 

"Good  heavens!"  said  Scott,  and  added,  as  if  to  himself, 
"That  little  fairy  thing!" 

"She  can't  help  it,"  said  Billy.  "She  can't  get  on  with 
the  female  species.  It's  like  cats,  you  know, — a  sort  of 
jealousy." 

"And  your  father?"  questioned  Scott,  the  hard  look 
growing  in  his  eyes. 

"Oh,  Dad!"  said  Billy,  smiling  tolerantly.     "He's  all 


1 88  Greatheart 

right — quite  a  decent  sort.  But  you  wouldn't  get  him  to 
leave  home  in  the  middle  of  the  hunting  season.  He's 
one  of  the  Whips. " 

Scott's  hand  had  tightened  unconsciously  to  a  grip. 
Billy  looked  at  him  in  surprised  interrogation,  and  was 
amazed  to  see  a  heavy  frown  drawing  the  colourless  brows. 
There  was  a  fiery  look  in  the  pale  eyes  also  that  he  had 
never  seen  before. 

He  waited  in  silence  for  developments,  being  of  a  wary 
disposition,  and  in  a  moment  Scott  spoke  in  a  voice  of 
such  concentrated  fury  that  Billy  felt  as  if  a  total  stranger 
were  confronting  him. 

"An  infernal  and  blackguardly  shame!"  he  said.  "It 
would  serve  them  right  if  the  little  girl  never  went  back  to 
them  again.  I  never  heard  of  such  damnable  callousness  in 
all  my  life  before. " 

Billy  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and  after  a  second  or  two 
permitted  himself  a  soft  whistle. 

Scott's  hold  upon  his  arm  relaxed.  "Yes,  I  know,"  he 
said.  "  I've  no  right  to  say  it  to  you.  But  when  the  blood 
boils,  you've  got  to  let  off  the  steam  somehow.  I  suppose 
you've  written  to  tell  them  all  about  her?" 

"Oh  yes,  I  wrote,  and  so  did  the  Colonel.  I  had  a  letter 
from  Dad  this  morning.  He  said  he  hoped  she  was  better 
and  that  she  was  being  well  looked  after.  That's  like  Dad, 
you  know.  He  never  realizes  a  thing  unless  he's  on  the 
spot.  I  daresay  I  shouldn't  myself,"  said  Billy  broad- 
mindedly.  "  It's  want  of  imagination  in  the  main. " 

"Or  want  of  heart,"  said  Scott  curtly. 

Billy  did  not  attempt  to  refute  the  amendment.  "It's 
just  the  way  you  chance  to  be  made,"  he  said  philosophi- 
cally. "Of  course  I'm  fond  of  Dinah.  We're  pals.  But 
Dad's  an  easy-going  sort  of  chap.  He  isn't  specially  fond 
of  anybody.  The  mater, — well,  she's  keen  on  me,  I  suppose," 
he  blushed  a  little;  "but,  as  I  said  before,  she  hasn't  much 


The  Valley  of  the  Shadow  189 

use  for  Dinah.  Even  when  she  was  a  small  kid,  she  used  to 
whip  her  no  end.  Dinah  is  frightened  to  death  at  her.  I 
don't  wonder  she  doesn't  want  her  sent  for." 

Scott's  face  was  set  in  stern  lines.  "She  certainly  shall 
not  be  sent  for,"  he  said  with  decision.  "The  poor  child 
shall  be  left  in  peace." 

"She  is  going  to  get  better,  isn't  she?"  said  Billy  quickly. 

"I  hope  so,  old  chap.  I  hope  so."  Scott  patted  his 
shoulder  kindly  and  prepared  to  depart. 

But  Billy  detained  him  a  moment.  "  I  say,  can't  I  come 
and  see  her?" 

"Not  now,  lad."  Scott  paused,  and  all  the  natural  kind- 
liness came  back  into  his  eyes.  "  My  sister  was  just  getting 
her  calm  again  when  I  came  away.  We  won't  disturb  her 
now." 

" How  is  your  sister,  sir? "  asked  Billy.  "Isn't  she  feeling 
the  strain  rather?" 

"No,  she  is  standing  it  wonderfully.  In  fact,"  Scott 
hesitated  momentarily,  "I  believe  that  in  helping  Dinah, 
she  has  found  herself  again. " 

"Do  you  really?"  said  Billy.  "Then  I  do  hope  for  her 
sake  that  Dinah  will  buck  up  and  get  well." 

"Thanks,  old  chap."  Scott  held  out  a  friendly  hand. 
"I'm  sorry  you're  having  such  a  rotten  time.  Come 
along  to  me  any  time  when  you're  feeling  bored!  I  shall 
be  only  too  pleased  when  I'm  at  liberty." 

"You're  a  brick,  sir,"  said  Billy.  "And  I  say,  you'll  send 
for  me,  won't  you,  if — if — "  He  broke  off.  "You  know, 
as  I  said  before,  Dinah  and  I  are  pals,"  he  ended  wistfully. 

"Of  course  I  will,  lad.  Of  course  I  will."  Scott  wrung 
his  hand  hard.  "But  we'll  pull  her  through,  please  God! 
We  must  pull  her  through. " 

"If  anyone  can,  you  will,"  said  Billy  with  conviction. 

Like  Dinah,  he  had  caught  a  glimpse  in  that  brief  conver- 
sation of  the  soul  that  inhabited  that  weak  and  puny  form. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE   WAY    BACK 

IT  was  three  days  later  that  Dinah  began  at  last  the  long 
and  weary  pilgrimage  back  again.  Almost  against  her 
will  she  turned  her  faltering  steps  up  the  steep  ascent; 
for  she  was  too  tired  for  any  sustained  effort.  Only  that 
something  seemed  to  be  perpetually  drawing  her  she  would 
not  have  been  moved  to  make  the  effort  at  all.  For  she 
was  so  piteously  weak  that  the  bare  exertion  of  opening  her 
eyes  was  almost  more  than  she  could  accomplish.  But 
ever  the  unknown  influence  urged  her,  very  gently  but  very 
persistently,  never  passive,  never  dormant,  but  always 
drawing  her  as  by  an  invisible  cord  back  to  the  world  of 
sunshine  and  tears  that  seemed  so  very  far  away  from 
the  land  of  shadows  in  which  she  wandered. 

All  active  suffering  had  left  her,  and  she  would  fain 
have  been  at  peace;  but  the  hand  that  clasped  hers  would 
not  be  denied.  The  motherly  voice  that  had  calmed  the 
wildest  fantasies  of  her  fevered  brain  spoke  now  to  her  with 
tenderest  encouragement;  the  love  that  surrounded  her 
drew  her,  uplifted  her,  sustained  her.  And  gradually,  as 
she  crept  back  from  the  shadows,  she  came  to  lean  upon  this 
love  as  upon  a  sure  support,  to  count  upon  it  as  her  own 
exclusive  possession — a  wonderful  new  gift  that  had  come 
to  her  out  of  the  darkness. 

She  still  welcomed  her  friend  Scott  at  her  bedside,  but 
very  curiously  she  had  grown  a  little  shy  in  his  presence. 

190 


The  Way  Back  191 

She  could  not  forget  that  dream  of  hers,  and  for  a  long  time 
she  was  haunted  by  the  dread  that  he  had  in  some  way 
come  to  know  of  it.  Though  the  steady  eyes  never  held 
anything  but  the  utmost  kindness  and  sympathy,  she  was 
half  afraid  to  meet  them  lest  they  should  look  into  her  heart 
and  see  the  vision  she  had  seen.  She  never  called  him  Mr. 
Greatheart  now. 

With  Isabel,  beloved  nurse  and  companion,  she  was 
completely  at  her  ease.  A  great  change  had  come  over 
Isabel — such  a  change  as  turns  the  bare  earth  into  a  garden 
of  spring  when  the  bitter  winter  is  past  at  last.  All  the  ice- 
bound bitterness  had  been  swept  utterly  away,  and  in  its 
place  there  blossomed  such  a  wealth  of  mother  -love  as 
transformed  her  completely. 

She  spent  herself  with  the  most  lavish  devotion  in  Dinah's 
service.  There  was  not  a  wish  that  she  expressed  that  was 
not  swiftly  and  abundantly  satisfied.  Night  and  day  she 
was  near  her,  ignoring  all  Biddy's  injunctions  to  rest,  till 
the  old  woman,  seeing  the  light  that  had  dawned  in  the 
shadowed  eyes,  left  her  to  take  her  own  way  in  peace.  She 
hovered  in  the  background,  always  ready  in  case  her  mis- 
tress's new-found  strength  should  fail.  But  Isabel  did 
not  need  her  care.  All  her  being  was  concentrated  upon  the 
task  of  bringing  Dinah  back  to  life,  and  she  thought  of 
nothing  else,  meeting  the  strain  with  that  strength  which 
comes  in  great  emergencies  to  all. 

And  as  she  gradually  succeeded  in  her  task,  a  great  peace 
descended  upon  her,  such  as  she  had  never  known  before. 
Biddy  sometimes  gazed  in  amazement  at  the  smooth  brow 
and  placid  countenance  at  Dinah's  bedside. 

"  Sure,  the  young  lady's  been  a  blessing  straight  from  the 
Almighty, "  she  said  to  Scott. 

"I  think  so  too,  Biddy,"  he  made  quiet  answer. 

He  was  much  less  in  the  sick-room  now  that  Dinah's 
need  of  him  had  passed.  He  sometimes  wondered  if  she 


192  Greatheart 

even  knew  how  many  hours  he  had  formerly  spent  there. 
He  visited  her  every  day,  and  it  was  to  him  that  the  task 
fell  of  telling  her  that  the  de  Vignes  had  arranged  to  leave 
her  in  their  charge. 

"We  have  your  father's  permission,"  he  said,  when  her 
brows  drew  together  with  a  troubled  expression.  "You 
see,  it  is  quite  impossible  to  move  you  at  present,  and  they 
must  be  getting  home.  Billy  is  to  go  with  them  if  you  think 
you  can  be  happy  alone  with  us. " 

She  put  out  her  little  wasted  hand.  "I  could  be  happy 
with  you  anywhere,"  she  said  simply.  "But  it  doesn't 
seem  right." 

" Of  course  it  is  right, "  he  made  quiet  reply.  "In  fact,  if 
you  ask  me,  I  think  it  is  our  business  rather  than  anyone 
else's  to  get  you  well  again. " 

She  flushed  in  quick  embarrassment.  "Oh,  please, you 
mustn't  put  it  like  that.  And  I  have  been  such  a  trouble 
to  everyone  ever  since." 

He  smiled  at  her  very  kindly.  "Biddy  says  you  are  a 
blessing  from  the  Almighty,  and  I  quite  agree  with  her.  It 
is  settled  then?  You  are  content  to  stay  with  us  until  we 
take  you  home?" 

Her  hand  was  clasped  in  his,  but  she  did  not  meet  his 
look.  "Oh,  much  more  than  content,"  she  said,  her  voice 
very  low.  ' '  Only ' ' 

"Only?"  he  said  gently. 

She  made  an  effort  to  lift  her  eyes,  but  dropped  them 
again  instantly.  "It  will  make  it  much  harder  to  go 
home,"  she  said. 

She  thought  he  sounded  somewhat  grim  as  he  said, 
"There  is  no  need  to  meet  troubles  half-way,  you  know. 
You  won't  be  strong  enough  for  the  journey  for  some 
time  to  come." 

"I  wish  I  could  stay  just  as  I  am  now,"  she  told  him 
tremulously,  "for  ever  and  ever  and  ever." 


The  Way  Back  193 

"Ah!"  he  said,  with  a  faint  sigh.  "It  is  not  given  to 
any  of  us  to  bask  in  the  sun  for  long. " 

And  so,  two  days  after,  the  de  Vignes  paid  a  state  visit 
of  farewell  to  Dinah,  now  pronounced  out  of  danger  but 
still  pitiably  weak, — so  weak  that  she  cried  when  the 
Colonel  bade  her  be  a  good  girl  and  get  well  enough  to  come 
home  as  soon  as  possible,  so  as  not  to  be  a  burden  to  these 
kind  friends  of  hers  longer  than  she  need. 

Lady  Grace's  kiss  was  chilly  and  perfunctory.  "I  also 
hope  you  will  get  well  quickly,  Dinah,"  she  said,  "as  I 
believe  Mr.  Studley  and  his  sister  are  staying  on  mainly  on 
your  account.  Sir  Eustace,  I  understand,  is  returning 
very  shortly,  and  I  have  asked  him  to  join  our  house- 
party." 

"Good-bye,  dear!"  murmured  Rose,  bending  her  smiling 
lips  to  kiss  Dinah's  forehead.  "  I  am  sorry  your  good  time 
has  had  such  a  tragic  end.  I  was  hoping  that  you  might 
be  allowed  to  come  to  the  Hunt  Ball,  but  I  am  afraid  that  is 
out  of  the  question  now.  Sir  Eustace  will  be  sorry  too. 
He  says  you  are  such  an  excellent  little  dancer. " 

"Good-bye!"  said  Dinah,  swallowing  her  tears. 

She  wept  unrestrainedly  when  Billy  bade  her  a  bluff  and 
friendly  farewell,  and  he  was  practically  driven  from  the 
room  by  Isabel ;  who  then  returned  to  her  charge,  gathered 
her  close  in  her  arms,  and  sat  with  her  so,  rocking  her  gently 
till  gradually  her  agitation  subsided. 

"Do  forgive  me!"  Dinah  murmured  at  last,  clinging 
round  her  neck. 

To  which  Isabel  made  answer  in  that  low  voice  of  hers 
that  so  throbbed  with  tenderness  whenever  she  spoke  to 
her.  "Dear  child,  there  is  nothing  to  forgive.  You  are 
tired  and  worn  out.  I  know  just  how  you  feel.  But  never 
mind — never  mind!  Forget  it  all!" 

"I  know  I  am  a  burden,"  whispered  Dinah,  clinging 
closer. 

13 


194  Greatheart 

Isabel's  lips  pressed  her  forehead.  "My  darling,"  she 
said,  "you  are  such  a  burden  as  I  could  not  bear  to  be 
without." 

That  satisfied  Dinah  for  the  time;  but  it  was  not  the 
whole  of  her  trouble,  and  presently,  still  clasped  close 
to  Isabel's  heart,  she  gave  hesitating  utterance  to  the 
rest. 

"It  would  have  been — so  lovely — to  have  gone  to  the 
Hunt  Ball.  I  should  like  to  dance  with — with  Sir  Eustace 
again.  Is  he — is  he  really  going  to  stay  with  the  de 
Vignes?" 

"I  don't  know,  dear.  Very  possibly  not."  Isabel's 
voice  held  a  hint  of  constraint  though  her  arms  pressed 
Dinah  comfortingly  close.  "He  will  please  himself  when  the 
time  comes  no  doubt. " 

Dinah  did  not  pursue"  the  subject,  but  her  mind  was  no 
longer  at  rest.  She  wondered  how  she  could  have  for- 
gotten Sir  Eustace  for  so  long,  and  now  that  she  remembered 
him  she  was  all  on  fire  with  the  longing  to  see  him  again. 
Rose  had  spoken  so  possessively,  so  confidently,  of  him, 
as  though — almost  as  though — he  had  become  her  own 
peculiar  property  during  the  long  dark  days  in  which  Dinah 
had  been  wandering  in  another  world. 

Something  in  Dinah  hotly  and  fiercely  resented  this 
attitude.  She  yearned  to  know  if  it  were  by  any  means, 
justified.  She  could  not,  would  not,  believe  that  he  had 
suffered  himself  to  fall  like  other  men  a  victim  to  Rose's 
wiles.  He  was  so  different  from  all  others,  so  superbly  far 
above  all  those  other  captives.  And  had  she  not  heard  him 
laugh  and  call  Rose  machine-made? 

A  great  restlessness  began  to  possess  her.  She  felt  she 
must  know  what  had  been  happening  during  her  absence 
from  the  field.  She  must  know  if  Rose  had  succeeded  in 
adding  yet  another  to  her  long  list  of  devoted  admirers. 
She  felt  that  if  this  were  so,  she  could  never,  never  forgive 


The  Way  Back  195 

her.  But  it  was  not  possible.  She  was  sure — she  was  sure 
it  was  not  possible. 

Sir  Eustace  was  not  the  man  to  grovel  at  any  woman's 
feet.  She  recalled  the  arrogance  of  his  demeanour  even 
in  his  moments  of  greatest  tenderness.  She  recalled  the 
magnetic  force  of  his  personality,  his  overwhelming  mas- 
tery. She  recalled  the  strong  holding  of  his  arms,  thrilled 
yet  again  to  the  burning  intensity  of  his  kisses. 

No,  no !  He  had  never  stooped  to  become  one  of  Rose's 
adorers.  If  he  had  ever  flirted  with  her,  he  had  done  it  out 
of  boredom.  She  was  beautiful — ah  yes,  Rose  was  beauti- 
ful; but  Dinah  was  quite  convinced  she  had  no  brains. 
And  Eustace  would  never  seriously  consider  a  woman  with- 
out brains. 

Seriously !  But  then  had  he  ever  taken  her  into  his  serious 
consideration  either?  Had  he  not  rather  been  at  pains  to 
make  her  understand  that  what  had  passed  between  them 
was  no  more  than  a  game  to  which  no  serious  consequences 
were  attached?  She  had  caught  his  fancy,  his  passing  fancy, 
and  now  was  not  her  turn  over?  Had  he  not  laughed  and 
gone  his  way? 

She  chafed  terribly  at  the  thought,  and  ever  the  longing 
to  see  him  again  grew  within  her  till  she  did  not  know  how  to 
hide  it  from  those  about  her. 

In  the  evening  her  temperature  rose,  and  the  doctor  was 
dissatisfied  with  her.  She  passed  a  restless  night,  and  was 
considerably  weaker  in  the  morning. 

"There  is  something  on  her  mind,"  the  doctor  said  to 
Isabel.  "See  if  you  can  find  out  what  it  is!" 

But  it  was  Scott  who  succeeded  with  the  utmost  gentle- 
ness in  discovering  the  trouble.  He  came  in  late  in  the 
morning  and  sat  down  beside  her  for  a  few  minutes. 

"I  have  been  writing  letters  for  my  brother,"  he  said  in 
his  quiet  way,  "or  I  should  have  called  for  news  of  you 
sooner.  Isabel  tells  me  you  have  had  a  bad  night. " 


196  Greatheart 

Dinah's  face  was  flushed  and  her  eyes  very  bright.  "I 
heard  the  dance-music  in  the  distance, "  she  said  nervously. 
"It — it  made  me  want  to  go  and  dance." 

"  I  am  sorry  it  disturbed  you, "  he  said  gently.  "  It  was 
only  that  then  ?  You  weren't  really  troubled  about  anything  ?" 

She  hesitated,  then,  meeting  the  kindness  of  his  look, 
her  eyes  suddenly  filled  with  tears.  She  turned  her  head 
away  in  silence. 

He  leaned  towards  her.  " Is  there  anything  you  want?" 
he  said.  "Tell  me  what  it  is!  I  will  get  it  for  you  if  it  is 
humanly  possible." 

"I  know — I  know!"  faltered  Dinah,  and  hid  her  face  in 
the  pillow. 

He  waited  a  moment  or  two,  then  laid  a  very  gentle 
hand  upon  her  dark  head.  "  Don't  cry,  little  one!"  he  said 
softly.  ' '  Tell  me  what  it  is ! " 

"I  can't,"  murmured  Dinah. 

"You  wanted  to  go  and  dance,"  said  Scott  sympatheti- 
cally. "  Was  it  just  that  ? " 

"Not — just — that!"  she  whispered  forlornly. 

"  I  thought  not.  You  were  wanting  something  more  than 
that.  What  was  it?" 

She  tried  not  to  tell  him.  She  would  have  given  almost 
all  she  had  to  keep  silence  on  the  subject;  but  somehow  she 
had  to  speak.  Under  the  pressure  of  that  kind  hand,  she 
could  not  maintain  her  silence  any  longer. 

"  I  was  thinking  of — of  your  brother, "  she  told  him  with 
tears.  "I  was  wondering  if — if  he  were  dancing,  and — 
and  I  not  there!" 

It  was  out  at  last,  and  she  hid  her  face  in  overwhelming 
shame  because  she  had  given  him  a  glimpse  of  her  secret 
heart  which  none  had  ever  seen  before.  She  wondered  with 
anguish  what  he  thought  of  her,  if  she  had  forfeited  his 
good  opinion  of  her  for  ever,  if  indeed  he  would  ever  speak 
to  her  with  kindness  again. 


The  Way  Back  197 

And  then  very  quietly  he  did  speak,  and  in  a  moment 
all  her  anxiety  was  gone.  "He  may  have  been  dancing," 
he  said.  "But  I  believe  he  has  been  very  bored  ever  since 
the  weather  broke.  I  wonder  if  he  might  come  and  see  you. 
Would  it  be  too  much  for  you?  Should  you  mind? " 

"Mind!"  Dinah's  tears  were  gone  in  a  flash.  She 
turned  shining  eyes  upon  him.  "But  would  he  come?" 
she  said,  with  sudden  misgiving.  "Wouldn't  that  bore 
him  too?" 

Scott  smiled  at  her  in  a  way  that  set  her  mind  wholly  at 
rest.  "No,  I  think  not,"  he  said.  "When  shall  he  come? 
This  evening?" 

Dinah  slipped  a  confiding  hand  into  his.  She  felt  that 
now  Scott  knew  and  was  not  scandalized,  there  was  no  fur- 
ther need  for  embarrassment.  "Oh,  just  any  time,"  she 
said.  "But  hadn't  I  better  get  up?  It  would  look  better, 
wouldn't  it?" 

"  I  don't  know  about  that, "  said  Scott.  "You  had  better 
ask  the  doctor." 

Dinah's  face  flushed  red.  "Need  the  doctor  know?" 
she  asked  him  shyly.  "I  am — so  afraid  of  his  saying  I 
am  well  enough  to  go  home.  And  that — that  will  end 
everything." 

"He  shan't  say  that,"  Scott  promised,  still  smiling  in 
the  fashion  that  so  warmed  her  heart.  "  I  will  drop  him  a 
hint." 

"Oh,  you  are  good!"  Dinah  said  very  earnestly.  "I 
think  you  are  the  kindest  man  I  have  ever  met. " 

He  laughed  at  that.  "My  dear,  it  is  easy  to  be  kind 
to  you,"  he  said. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  why,"  she  protested.  "I'm 
getting  very  spoilt  and  selfish." 

He  patted  her  hand  gently  and  laid  it  down.  "You  are 
— just  you,"  he  said,  and  rising  with  the  words  rather 
abruptly  he  left  her. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE    LIGHTS    OF    A    CITY 

"  A  flAY  I  come  in?"  said  Sir  Eustace. 

1 V 1  He  stood  in  the  doorway,  a  gigantic  figure  to 
Dinah's  unaccustomed  eyes,  and  looked  in  upon  her  with  a 
careless  smile  on  his  handsome  face. 

"Oh,  please  do!"  she  said. 

She  was  lying  on  a  couch  under  a  purple  rug  belonging  to 
Isabel.  Very  fragile  and  weak  she  looked,  but  her  face 
was  flushed  and  eager,  her  eyes  alight  with  welcome.  She 
thought  he  had  never  looked  so  splendid,  so  godlike,  as  at 
that  moment.  She  wanted  to  hold  out  both  her  arms  to 
him  and  be  borne  upward  to  Olympus  in  his  embrace. 

He  came  forward  with  his  easy  carriage  and  stood  beside 
her.  His  smile  was  one  of  kindly  indulgence.  He  looked 
down  at  her  as  he  might  have  looked  upon  an  infant. 

An  uneasy  sense  of  her  own  insignificance  went  through 
Dinah.  She  could  not  remember  that  he  had  ever  regarded 
her  thus  before.  A  faint,  faint  throb  of  resentment  also 
pulsed  through  her.  His  attitude  was  so  suggestive  of 
the  mere  casual  acquaintance.  Surely — surely  he  had  not 
forgotten ! 

"Won't  you  sit  down?"  she  asked  in  a  small  voice  that 
was  quite  unconsciously  formal. 

He  seated  himself  in  the  chair  that  had  been  placed  at  her 
side.  "So  they  have  left  you  behind  to  be  mended,  have 
they  ? "  he  said.  "  I  hope  it  is  a  satisfactory  process,  is  it  ? " 

198 


The  Lights  of  a  City  199 

She  had  meant  to  give  him  her  hand,  but  as  he  did  not 
seem  to  expect  it  she  refrained  from  doing  so.  A  great 
longing  to  cover  her  face  and  burst  into  tears  took  posses- 
sion of  her;  she  resisted  it  frantically,  with  all  her  strength. 

"Oh  yes,  I  am  getting  better,  thank  you,"  she  said,  in  a 
voice  that  quivered  in  spite  of  her.  "I  am  afraid  I  have 
been  a  great  nuisance  to  everybody.  I  am  sure  the  de 
Vignes  thought  so;  and — and — I  expect  you  do  too." 

She  could  not  keep  the  tears  from  springing  to  her  eyes, 
strive  as  she  would.  He  was  so  different — so  different. 
He  might  have  been  a  total  stranger,  sitting  there  beside  her. 

Yet  as  he  looked  at  her,  she  felt  something  of  the  old 
quick  thrill;  for  the  blue  eyes  regarded  her  with  a  slightly 
warmer  interest  as  he  said,  "I  can't  answer  for  the  de 
Vignes  of  course,  but  it  doesn't  seem  to  me  that  either  they 
or  I  have  had  much  cause  for  complaint.  I  shouldn't  fret 
about  that  if  I  were  you." 

She  commanded  herself  with  an  effort.  "  I  don't.  Only 
it  isn't  nice  to  feel  a  burden  to  anyone,  is  it?  You  wouldn't 
like  it,  would  you?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  he  said,  with  his  easy  arrogance. 
"I  think  I  should  expect  to  be  waited  on  if  I  were  ill. 
You've  had  rather  a  bad  time,  I'm  afraid.  But  you  haven't 
missed  much*  The  weather  has  been  villainous." 

"I've  missed  all  the  dances,"  said  Dinah,  stifling  a  sob. 

He  began  to  smile.  "I  wish  I  had.  I  haven't  enjoyed 
one  of  them. " 

That  comforted  her  a  little.  At  least  Rose  had  not 
scored  an  unqualified  victory!  "You've  been  bored?"  she 
asked. 

"Horribly  bored,"  said  Sir  Eustace.  "There's  been  no 
fun  for  anyone  since  the  weather  broke. " 

She  gathered  her  courage  in  both  hands.  "And  so  you're 
going  home?"  she  said,  and  lay  in  quivering  dread  of  his 
answer. 


20O  Greatheart 

He  did  not  make  one  immediately.  He  seemed  to  be 
considering  the  matter.  "There  doesn't  seem  to  be  much 
point  in  staying  on,"  he  said  finally,  "unless  things 
improve." 

"But  they  will  improve,"  said  Dinah  quickly.  "At 
least — at  least  they  ought  to." 

"A  fortnight  of  bad  weather  isn't  particularly  encourag- 
ing," he  remarked. 

"Of  course  it  isn't!  It's  horrid,"  she  agreed.  "But 
every  day  makes  it  less  likely  that  it  will  last  much  longer. 
And  I  expect  it's  much  worse  in  England,"  she  added. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Sir  Eustace.  "There's  the  hunting 
anyway." 

" Oh  no;  it  would  freeze  directly  you  got  there, "  she  said, 
with  a  shaky  little  laugh.  "And  then  you  would  wish  you 
had  stayed  here." 

"I  could  shoot,"  said  Sir  Eustace. 

"And  there  is  the  Hunt  Ball,  isn't  there?"  said  Dinah 
with  more  assurance. 

He  looked  at  her  keenly.     ' '  What  Hunt  Ball  ? ' ' 

She  met  his  eyes  with  a  faint  challenge  in  her  own.  "I 
heard  you  were  going  to  stay  with  the  de  Vignes.  They 
always  go  to  the  Hunt  Ball  every  year." 

"Do  you  go?"  asked  Sir  Eustace. 

She  shook  her  head.     "No.     I   never  go  anywhere." 

She  saw  his  eyes  soften  unexpectedly  as  he  said,  "Then 
there  isn't  much  inducement  for  me  to  go,  is  there?" 

Her  heart  gave  a  wild  throb  of  half -incredulous  delight. 
She  made  a  small  movement  of  one  hand  towards  him,  and 
quite  suddenly  she  found  it  grasped  in  his.  He  bent  to  her 
with  a  laugh  in  his  eyes. 

"Shall  we  go  on  with  the  game, — Daphne? "  he  whispered. 
"Are  you  well  enough?" 

Her  eyes  answered  him.  Was  he  not  irresistible?  "Oh, " 
she  whispered,  "I  thought — I  thought  you  had  forgotten." 


The  Lights  of  a  City  201 

He  glanced  round,  as  if  to  make  sure  that  they  were 
alone,  and  then  swiftly  bent  and  kissed  her  quivering  lips. 
"But  the  past  has  no  claims,"  he  said.  "Remember,  it  is 
a  game  without  consequences!" 

She  laughed  very  happily,  clasping  his  hand.  "I  was 
afraid  it  was  all  over, "  she  said.  "But  it  isn't,  is  it?" 

He  laughed  too  under  his  breath.  "I  am  under  the  very 
strictest  orders  not  to  excite  you,"  he  said,  passing  the 
question  by.  "If  the  doctor  were  to  come  and  feel  your 
pulse  now,  there  would  be  serious  trouble.  And  I  shouldn't 
be  allowed  within  a  dozen  yards  of  you  again  for  many  a 
long  day." 

"What  nonsense!"  murmured  Dinah.  "Why,  you  have 
done  me  so  much  good  that  I  feel  almost  well."  She 
squeezed  his  hand  with  all  the  strength  she  could  muster. 
"Don't  go  away  till  I'm  quite  well!"  she  begged  him  wist- 
fully. "We  must  have — one  more  dance. " 

His  eyes  kindled  suddenly  with  that  fire  which  she  dared 
not  meet.  "I  will  grant  you  that,"  he  said,  "on  condition 
that  you  promise — mind,  you  promise — not  to  run  away 
afterwards." 

His  intensity  embarrassed  her,  she  knew  not  wherefore. 
"Why— why  should  I  run  away?"  she  faltered. 

"You  ran  away  last  time,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  that  was  only — only  because  I  was  afraid  the 
Colonel  might  be  angry  with  me, "  she  murmured. 

"Oh  well,  there  is  no  Colonel  to  be  angry  now,"  he  said. 
" It's  a  promise  then,  is  it?" 

But  for  some  reason  wholly  undefined  she  hesitated.  She 
felt  as  if  she  could  not  bring  herself  thus  to  cut  off  her  own 
line  of  retreat.  "No,  I  don't  think  I  can  quite  promise 
that,"  she  said,  after  a  moment. 

"You  won't?"  he  said. 

His  tone  warned  her  to  reconsider  her  decision.  "I — 
I'll  tell  you  to-morrow,"  she  said  hastily. 


2O2  Greatheart 

"  I  may  be  gone  by  to-morrow, "  he  said. 

She  looked  up  at  him  with  swift  daring.  "Oh  no,  you 
won't,"  she  said,  with  conviction.  "Or  if  you  are,  you'll 
come  back. " 

"How  do  you  know  that?"  he  demanded,  frowning  upon 
her  while  his  eyes  still  gleamed  with  that  lambent  fire  that 
made  her  half  afraid. 

She  dropped  her  own.  "There's  someone  coming,"  she 
whispered.  "It  doesn't  matter,  does  it?  I  do  know. 
Good-bye!" 

She  slipped  her  hand  from  his  with  a  little  secret  sense 
of  triumph;  for  though  he  had  so  arrogantly  asserted  him- 
self she  was  conscious  of  a  certain  power  over  him  which 
gave  her  confidence.  She  was  firmly  convinced  in  that 
moment  that  he  would  not  go. 

He  rose  to  leave  her  as  Isabel  came  softly  into  the  room, 
and  between  the  brother  and  sister  there  flashed  a  look  that 
was  curiously  like  the  crossing  of  blades. 

Isabel  came  straight  to  Dinah's  side.  "You  must 
settle  down  now,  dear  child, "  she  said,  in  that  low,  musical 
voice  of  hers  that  Dinah  loved.  "  It  is  getting  late,  and  you 
didn't  sleep  well  last  night. " 

Dinah  smiled,  and  drew  the  hand  that  had  so  often 
smoothed  her  pillow  to  her  cheek.  But  her  eyes  were  upon 
Eustace,  and  she  caught  a  parting  gleam  from  his  as  with  a 
gesture  of  farewell  he  turned  away. 

"I  am  much  better,"  she  said  to  Isabel  later,  as  she 
composed  herself  to  rest.  "I  feel  as  if  I  am  going  to  sleep 
well." 

Isabel  stooped  to  kiss  her.  "Sleep  is  the  best  medicine 
in  the  world, "  she  said. 

"Do  you  sleep  better  now?"  Dinah  asked, detaining  her. 

Isabel  hesitated  for  a  second.  "Oh  yes,  I  sleep,"  she 
said  then.  "I  am  able  to  sleep  now  that  you  are  safe,  my 
darling." 


The  Lights  of  a  City  203 

Dinah  clung  to  her.  "I  can't  think  what  I  would  do 
without  you,"  she  murmured.  "No  one  was  ever  so  good 
to  me  before." 

Isabel  held  her  closely.  "Don't  you  realize,"  she  said 
fondly,  "that  you  have  been  my  salvation." 

"Not — not  really?"  faltered  Dinah. 

"Yes,  really."  There  was  a  throb  of  passion  in  Isabel's 
voice.  "I  have  been  a  prisoner  for  years,  but  you — you, 
little  Dinah, — have  set  me  free.  I  am  travelling  forward 
again  now — like  the  rest  of  the  world."  She  paused  a 
moment,  and  her  arms  clasped  Dinah  more  closely  still. 
"I  do  not  think  I  have  very  far  to  go,"  she  said,  speaking 
very  softly.  "My  night  has  been  so  long  that  I  think 
the  dawn  cannot  be  far  off  now.  God  knows  how  I  am 
longing  for  it." 

"Oh,  darling,  don't — don't!"  whispered  Dinah  piteously. 

"I  won't,  dearest."  Very  tenderly  Isabel  kissed  her 
again.  "I  didn't  mean  to  distress  you.  Only  I  want  you 
to  know  that  you  are  just  all  the  world  to  me — the  main- 
spring of  what  life  there  is  left  to  me.  I  shall  never  forgive 
myself  for  leading  you  away  on  that  terrible  Sunday,  and 
causing  you  all  this  suffering." 

"Oh,  but  I  should  have  been  home  again  by  now  if 
that  hadn't  happened,"  said  Dinah  quickly.  "See  what  I 
should  have  missed!  I'd  far,  far  rather  be  ill  with  you 
than  well  at  home." 

"Yours  isn't  a  happy  home,  sweetheart,"  Isabel  said 
gently. 

"Not  very,"  Dinah  admitted.  "But  being  away  makes 
it  seem  much  worse.  I  have  been  so  spoilt  with  you." 

Isabel  smiled.  "I  only  wish  I  could  keep  you  always, 
dear  child." 

Dinah  drew  a  sharp  breath.  "Oh,  if  you  only  could!" 
she  said. 

Isabel  pressed  her  to  her  heart,   and  laid  her  down. 


204  Greatheart 

"I  must  get  you  back  to  bed,  dear,"  she  said.  "We  have 
talked  too  long  already. " 

Late  that  night  Isabel  went  softly  to  the  door  in  answer 
to  a  low  knock,  and  found  Scott  on  the  threshold. 

She  lifted  a  warning  finger.     "  She  is  asleep. " 

"That's  right,"  he  said  quietly.  "I  only  came  to  say 
good  night  to  you.  Are  you  going  to  bed  now?" 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  faint  smile  in  her  shadowed 
eyes.  "  I  daresay  I  shall  go  some  time, "  she  said;  then  see- 
ing the  concern  in  his  eyes:  "  Don't  worry  about  me,  Stumpy 
dear.  I  don't  sleep  a  great  deal,  you  know;  but  I  rest. " 

He  took  her  arm  and  drew  her  gently  outside  the  room. 
"  I  want  you  to  take  care  of  yourself  now  that  she  is  safe, " 
he  said.  ' '  Will  you  try  ? " 

The  smile  still  lingered  in  her  eyes.  She  bent  her  stately 
neck  to  kiss  him.  "Oh  yes,  dear;  I  shall  be  all  right,"  she 
said.  "It  does  me  good  to  have  the  little  one  to  think  of.  " 

"I  know,"  he  said.  "But  don't  wear  yourself  out! 
Remember,  you  are  not  strong." 

"Nothing  I  can  do  for  her  would  be  too  much,"  she 
answered  with  quick  feeling.  "Think — think  what  she  has 
done  for  me!" 

"For  us  all, "  said  Scott  gently.  " But  all  the  same,  dear, 
you  can  spare  a  little  thought  for  yourself  now."  He 
hesitated  momentarily,  then:  "I  think  Eustace  would  like 
to  see  more  of  you,"  he  said,  speaking  with  a  touch  of 
diffidence. 

She  made  a  sharp  gesture  of  impatience.  "Why  did  you 
send  him  to  disturb  the  child's  peace? " 

"She  wanted  him,"  said  Scott  simply. 

"Ah!"  Isabel  stood  tense  for  a  second.  "And  he?" 
she  questioned. 

"  He  was  quite  pleased  to  see  her  again, "  said  Scott. 

She  grasped  his  arm  suddenly.  "Stumpy,  don't  let  him 
break  her  heart!" 


The  Lights  of  a  City  205 

He  met  her  look  with  steadfast  eyes.  "He  shall  not  do 
that,"  he  said,  with  inflexible  resolution. 

Her  hold  became  a  grip.  "Can  you  prevent  it?  You 
know  what  he  is  " 

"Oh  yes,  I  know,"  very  steadily  Scott  made  answer. 
"But  you  needn't  be  afraid,  Isabel.  He  shall  not  do 
that." 

A  measure  of  relief  came  into  her  drawn  face.  "Thank 
you,  Stumpy,"  she  said.  "I  was  horribly  afraid — when  I 
saw  him  just  now — and  she,  poor  child,  so  innocently  glad 
to  have  him!" 

"You  needn't  be  afraid,"  he  reiterated.  "Eustace  is 
too  much  of  a  sportsman  to  amuse  himself  at  the  expense 
of  an  unsophisticated  child  like  that." 

Isabel  suppressed  a  shiver.  "I  don't  think  he  is  so 
scrupulous  as  you  imagine,"  she  said.  "We  must  watch, 
Stumpy ;  we  must  watch. " 

He  patted  her  arm  with  his  quiet  smile.  "And  we 
mustn't  let  ourselves  get  over-anxious,"  he  said.  "Now 
go  to  bed,  like  a  dear  girl!  You  are  looking  absolutely 
worn  out." 

Her  lips  quivered  as  she  smiled  back.  "At  least  you  are 
getting  better  nights,"  she  said. 

"Yes,  I  sleep  very  well,"  he  answered.  "I  want  to 
know  you  are  doing  the  same." 

Her  face  shone  as  though  reflecting  the  lights  of  a  city 
seen  from  afar.  "Oh  yes,  I  sleep,"  she  said.  "And  some- 
times I  dream  that  I  have  really  found  the  peaks  of  Para- 
dise. But  before  I  reach  the  summit — I  am  awake." 

He  drew  her  to  him,  and  kissed  her.  "It  is  better  that 
you  should  wake,  dear,"  he  said. 

She  returned  his  kiss  with  tenderness,  but  her  eyes  were 
fixed  and  distant.  "Some  day  the  dream  will  come  true, 
Stumpy,"  she  said  softly.  "And  I  shall  find  him  there 
where  he  has  been  waiting  for  me  all  these  years. " 


206  Greatheart 

"But  not  yet,  Isabel,"  murmured  Scott,  and  there  was 
pleading  in  his  voice. 

She  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  ere  she  turned  to  re-enter 
the  room  in  which  Dinah  lay.  "Not  just  yet,"  she  an- 
swered softly.  "Good  night,  dear!  Good  night!" 

The  strange  light  was  still  upon  her  face  as  she  went, 
and  Scott  looked  after  her  with  a  faint,  wistful  smile  about 
his  mouth.  As  he  went  to  his  own  room,  he  passed  his  hand 
across  his  forehead  with  a  gesture  of  unutterable  weariness. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   TRUE   GOLD 

THE  actual  turning-point  in  Dinah's  illness  seemed  to 
date  from  that  brief  interview  with  Sir  Eustace. 
They  had  drawn  her  back  half  against  her  will  from  the 
land  of  shadows,  but  from  that  day  her  will  was  set  to 
recover.  The  old  elasticity  came  back  to  her,  and  with 
every  hour  her  strength  increased.  The  joy  of  life  was  hers 
once  more.  She  was  like  a  flower  opening  to  the  sun. 

Sir  Eustace  presented  himself  every  evening  for  admit- 
tance and  sat  with  her  for  a  little  while.  Isabel  was 
generally  present,  and  their  conversation  was  in  conse- 
quence of  a  strictly  commonplace  order;  but  the  keen  blue 
eyes  told  Dinah  more  than  the  proud  lips  ever  uttered.  She 
came  to  watch  for  that  look  which  she  could  not  meet,  and 
though  at  times  it  sent  a  wild  dart  of  fear  through  her,  yet  it 
filled  her  also  with  a  rapture  indefinable  but  unspeakably 
precious.  She  felt  sure  that  he  had  never  turned  that  look 
on  Rose  or  any  other  girl.  It  was  kept  exclusively  for  her, 
and  its  fiery  intensity  thrilled  her  soul.  It  was  the  sign  of  a 
secret  understanding  between  them  which  she  believed  none 
other  suspected. 

It  was  a  somewhat  terrible  joy,  for  the  man's  strength 
had  startled  her  more  than  once,  but  in  moments  of  dread 
she  reassured  herself  with  the  memory  of  his  reiterated 
declaration  that  the  magic  bond  that  existed  between  them 
was  no  bond  at  all  in  reality — only  a  game  without  con- 

207 


208  Greatheart 

sequences.  She  would  not  look  forward  to  the  time  when 
that  game  should  be  over.  She  was  not  looking  forward  at 
all,  so  sublimely  happy  was  she  in  the  present.  The  period 
of  convalescence  which  to  most  patients  is  the  hardest 
of  all  to  bear  was  to  her  a  dream  of  delight. 

A  week  after  the  departure  of  the  de  Vignes  she  was  well 
enough  to  be  moved  into  Isabel's  sitting-room,  and  here  on 
that  first  day  both  Sir  Eustace  and  Scott  joined  them  at 
tea.. 

The  weather  had  cleared  again,  and  Sir  Eustace  came  in 
from  an  afternoon's  ski-ing  attired  in  the  white  sweater 
in  which  Dinah  always  loved  to  see  him.  She  lay  on  her 
couch  and  watched  him  with  shining  eyes,  telling  herself 
that  no  prince  had  ever  looked  more  royal. 

It  was  Scott  who  waited  upon  her,  but  she  was  scarcely 
aware  of  his  presence.  Even  Isabel  seemed  to  have  faded 
into  the  background.  She  could  think  only  of  Eustace 
lounging  near  her  in  careless  magnificence,  talking  in  his 
deep  voice  of  the  day's  sport. 

"There  are  several- new  people  arrived,"  he  said,  "both 
ancient  and  modern.  The  place  was  getting  empty,  but 
it  has  filled  up  again.  There  is  to  be  a  dance  to-night, "  his 
eyes  sought  Dinah's.  "I  am  going  down  presently  to 
see  if  any  of  the  new-comers  have  any  talents  worth 
cultivating. " 

She  met  his  look  with  a  flash  of  daring.  "I  wish  you 
luck,"  she  said. 

He  made  her  a  bow.  "You  are  very  generous.  But 
I  scarcely  expect  any.  My  star  has  not  been  in  the  ascend- 
ant for  a  long  time." 

Scott  uttered  a  laugh  that  sounded  faintly  derisive. 
"You'll  have  to  make  the  best  of  the  second  best  for  once, 
my  dear  chap,"  he  said.  "You  can't  always  have  your 
cake  iced." 

Eustace  glanced  at  him  momentarily.     "I  am  not  you, 


The  True  Gold  209 

Stumpy,"  he  said.  "The  philosophy  of  the  second  best 
is  only  for  those  who  have  never  tasted  the  best. " 

There  was  in  his  tone  a  touch  of  malice  that  caught 
Dinah  very  oddly,  like  the  flick  of  a  lash  intended  for 
another.  She  awoke  very  suddenly  to  the  realization  of 
Scott  sitting  near  Isabel  with  the  light  shining  on  his  pale 
face  and  small,  colourless  beard.  How  insignificant  he 
looked !  And  yet  the  narrow  shoulders  had  an  independent 
set  about  them  as  though  they  were  not  without  a  certain 
strength. 

The  smile  still  lingered  about  his  lips  as  he  made  quiet 
rejoinder.  "It  sometimes  needs  a  philosopher  to  tell  what 
is  the  best." 

Eustace  gave  an  impatient  shrug.  "The  philosopher  is 
not  always  a  wise  man,"  he  observed  briefly. 

"But  seldom  an  utter  fool,"  returned  Scott. 

The  elder  brother's  face  was  contemptuous  as  he  said, 
"A  philosopher  may  recognize  what  is  best,  but  it  is  seldom 
within  his  reach. " 

"And  so,  being  a  philosopher,  he  does  without  it." 
Scott  spoke  thoughtfully ;  he  was  gazing  straight  before  him. 

Isabel  suddenly  leaned  forward.  "He  is  not  always  the 
loser,  Stumpy,"  she  said. 

He  looked  at  her.  "Certainly  a  man  can't  lose  what  he 
has  never  had,"  he  said. 

"Every  man  has  his  chance  once,"  she  insisted. 

"And — if  he's  a  philosopher — he  doesn't  take  it," 
laughed  Eustace.  "  Don't  you  know,  my  dear  Isabel,  that 
that  is  the  very  cream  and  essence  of  philosophy?" 

She  gave  him  a  swift  look  that  was  an  open  challenge. 
"What  do  you  know  of  philosophy  and  the  greater  things 
of  life?"  she  said. 

He  looked  momentarily  surprised.  Dinah  saw  the  ready 
frown  gather  on  his  handsome  face;  but  before  he  could 
speak  Scott  intervened. 


210  Greatheart 

"How  on  earth  did  we  get  onto  this  abstruse  subject?" 
he  said  easily.  "  Miss  Bathurst  will  vote  us  all  a  party  of 
bores,  and  with  reason.  What  were  we  talking  about  before  ? 
Iced  cake,  wasn't  it?  Are  you  a  cook  Miss  Bathurst?" 
1  "  I  can  make  some  kinds  of  cakes, "  Dinah  said  modestly, 
"  but  I  like  making  pastry  best.  I  often  make  sausage-rolls 
for  Dad  to  take  hunting." 

"That  sounds  more  amusing  for  him  than  for  you," 
observed  Eustace. 

"Oh  no,  I  love  making  them,"  she  assured  him.  "And 
he  always  says  he  likes  mine  better  than  anyone's.  But 
I'm  not  a  particularly  good  cook  really.  Mother  generally 
does  that  part,  and  I  do  all  the  rest. " 

"All?"  said  Isabel. 

"Yes.  You  see,  we  can't  afford  to  keep  a  servant, "  said 
Dinah.  "And  I  groom  Rupert — that's  the  hunter — too, 
when  Billy  isn't  at  home.  I  like  doing  that.  He's  such  a 
beauty." 

"  Do  you  ever  ride  him? "  asked  Eustace. 

She  shook  her  head.  "No.  I'd  love  to,  of  course,  but 
there's  never  any  time.  I  can't  spend  as  long  as  I  like  over 
grooming  him  because  there  are  so  many  other  things. 
But  he  generally  looks  very  nice,"  she  spoke  with  pride; 
"quite  as  nice  as  any  of  the  de  Vignes's  horses. " 

"You  must  have  a  very  busy  time  of  it, "  said  Scott. 

"Yes."  Dinah's  bright  face  clouded  a  little.  "I  often 
wish  I  had  more  time  for  other  things;  but  it's  no  good 
wishing.  Anyway,  I've  had  my  time  out  here,  and  I  shall 
never  forget  it." 

"You  must  come  out  again  with  us, "  said  Isabel. 

Dinah  beamed.  "Oh,  how  I  should  love  it!"  she  said. 
"But — "  her  face  fell  again — "I  don't  believe  mother  will 
ever  spare  me  a  second  time." 

"All  right.  I'll  run  away  with  you  in  the  yacht,"  said 
Eustace.  "Come  for  a  trip  in  the  summer!" 


The  True  Gold  211 

She  looked  at  him  with  shining  eyes.  "It's  not  a  bit  of 
good  thinking  about  it,"  she  said.  "But  oh,  how  lovely  it 
would  be!" 

He  laughed,  looking  at  her  with  that  gleam  in  his  eyes 
that  she  had  come  to  know  as  exclusively  her  own.  "Where 
there's  a  will,  there's  a  way,"  he  said.  "If  you  have  the 
will,  you  can  leave  the  way  to  me." 

She  drew  a  quick  breath.  Her  heart  was  beating  rather 
fast.  "All  right, "  she  said.  "I'll  come. " 

"Is  it  a  promise?"  said  Eustace. 

She  shook  her  head  instantly.  "No.  I  never  make 
promises.  They  have  a  way  of  spoiling  things  so." 

"Exactly  my  own  idea,"  he  said.  "Never  turn  a  plea- 
sure into  a  duty,  or  it  becomes  a  burden  at  once.  Well,  I 
must  go  and  make  myself  pretty  for  this  evening's  show.  If 
I'm  very  bored,  I  shall  come  and  sit  out  with  you." 

"  Not  to-night, "  said  Isabel  with  quick  decision.  ' '  Dinah 
is  going  to  bed  very  soon. " 

"Really?"  He  stood  by  Dinah's  couch,  looking  down  at 
her  with  his  faint  supercilious  smile.  "Do  you  submit 
to  that  sort  of  tyranny?"  he  said. 

She  held  up  her  hand  to  him.  "It  isn't  tyranny.  It  is 
the  very  dearest  kindness  in  the  world.  Don't  you  know 
the  difference?" 

He  held  the  little,  confiding  hand  a  moment  or  two,  and 
she  felt  his  fingers  close  around  it  with  a  strength  that 
seemed  as  if  it  encompassed  her  very  soul.  "There  are 
two  ways  of  looking  at  everything,"  he  said.  "But 
I  shouldn't  be  too  docile  if  I  were  you;  not,  that  is,  if 
you  want  to  get  any  fun  out  of  life.  Remember,  life  is 
short." 

He  let  her  go  with  the  words,  straightened  himself  to 
his  full,  splendid  height,  and  sauntered  with  regal  arrogance 
to  the  door. 

"I  want  you,  Stumpy, "  he  said,  in  passing.    "There  are 


212  Greatheart 

one  or  two  letters  for  you  to  deal  with.  You  can  come 
to  my  room  while  I  dress. " 

"In  that  case,  I  had  better  say  good  night  too,"  said 
Scott,  rising. 

"Oh  no,"  said  Dinah,  with  her  quick  smile.  "You  can 
come  in  and  say  good  night  to  me  afterwards — when  I'm  in 
bed.  Can't  he,  Isabel?" 

She  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of  calling  Isabel  by  her 
Christian  name  from  hearing  Scott  use  it.  It  had  begun 
almost  in  delirium,  and  now  it  came  so  naturally  that  she 
never  dreamed  of  reverting  to  the  more  formal  mode  of 
address. 

Scott  smiled  in  his  quiet  fashion,  and  turned  to  join  his 
brother.  "I  will  with  pleasure,"  he  said. 

Eustace  threw  a  mocking  glance  backwards.  "It  seems 
that  philosophers  rush  in  where  mere  ordinary  males  fear  to 
tread,"  he  observed.  "Stumpy,  allow  me  to  congratulate 
you  on  your  privileges!" 

"Thanks,  old  chap!"  Scott  made  answer  in  his  tired 
voice.  "But  there  is  no  occasion  for  the  ordinary  male  to 
envy  me  my  compensations^. " 

"What  did  he  mean  by  that?"  said  Dinah,  as  the  door 
closed. 

Isabel  moved  to  her  side  and  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the 
couch.  "Scott  is  very  lonely,  little  one, "  she  said. 

"Is  he?"  said  Dinah,  wonderingly.  "But — surely  he 
must  have  lots  of  friends.  He's  such  a  dear. " 

Isabel  smiled  at  her  rather  sadly.  "Yes,  everyone  who 
knows  him  thinks  that. " 

"Everyone  must  love  him,"  protested  Dinah.  "Who 
could  help  it?" 

"I  wonder,"  said  Isabel  slowly,  "if  he  will  ever  meet 
anyone  who  will  love  him  best  of  all. " 

Dinah  was  suddenly  conscious  of  a  rush  of  blood  to  her 
face.  She  knew  not  wherefore,  but  she  felt  it  beat  in  her 


The  True  Gold  213 

temples  and  sing  in  her  ears.  "Oh,  surely — surely!"  she 
stammered  in  confusion. 

Isabel  looked  beyond  her.  "You  know,  Dinah,"  she 
said,  her  voice  very  low,  "Scott  is  a  man  with  an  almost 
infinite  greatness  of  soul.  I  don't  know  if  you  realize  it. 
I  have  thought  sometimes  that  you  did.  But  there  are 
very  few — very  few — who  do. " 

"I  know  he  is  great, "  whispered  Dinah.  " I  told  him  so 
almost — almost  the  first  time  I  saw  him." 

Isabel's  smile  was  very  tender.  She  stooped  and  gath- 
ered Dinah  to  her  bosom.  "Oh,  my  dear,  "  she  murmured, 
"never  prefer  the  tinsel  to  the  true  gold !  He  is  far,  far  the 
greatest  man  I  know.  And  you — you  will  never  meet  a 
greater. " 

Dinah  clung  to  her  in  quick  responsiveness.  Her  strange 
agitation  was  subsiding,  but  she  could  feel  the  blood  yet 
pulsing  in  her  veins.  "I  know  it, "  she  whispered.  "I  am 
sure  of  it.  He  is  very  much  to  you,  dear,  isn't  he? " 

"For  years  he  has  been  my  all, "  Isabel  said.  "Listen  a 
moment!  I  will  tell  you  something.  In  the  first  dreadful 
days  of  my  illness,  I  was  crazy  with  trouble,  and — and  they 
bound  me  to  keep  me  from  violence.  I  have  never  forgotten 
it.  I  never  shall.  Then — he  came.  He  was  very  young  at 
that  time,  only  twenty-three.  He  had  his  life  before  him, 
and  mine — mine  was  practically  over.  Yet  he  gave  up 
everything — everything  for  my  sake.  He  took  command; 
he  banished  all  the  horrible  people  who  had  taken  possession 
of  me.  He  gave  me  freedom,  and  he  set  himself  to  safe- 
guard me.  He  brought  me  home.  He  was  with  me  night 
and  day,  or  if  not  actually  with  me,  within  call.  He  and 
Biddy  between  them  brought  me  back.  They  watched 
me,  nursed  me,  cared  for  me.  Whenever  my  trouble  was 
greater  than  I  could  bear,  he  was  always  there  to  help  me. 
He  never  left  me ;  and  gradually  he  became  so  necessary  to 
me  that  I  couldn't  contemplate  life  without  him.  I  have 
* 


214  Greatheart 

been  terribly  selfish."  A  low  sob  checked  her  utterance 
for  a  moment,  and  Dinah's  young  arms  tightened.  "I  let 
my  grief  take  hold  of  me  to  the  exclusion  of  everything 
else.  I  didn't  see — I  didn't  realize — the  sacrifice  he  was 
making.  For  years  I  took  it  all  as  a  right,  living  in  my  fog 
of  misery  and  blind  to  all  beside.  But  now — now  at  last — 
thanks  to  you,  little  one,  whom  I  nearly  killed — my  eyes 
are  open  once  more.  The  fog  has  rolled  away.  No,  I  can 
never  be  happy.  I  am  of  those  who  wait.  But  I  will  never 
again,  God  helping  me,  deprive  others  of  happiness.  Scott 
shall  live  his  own  life  now.  His  devotion  to  me  must  come 
to  an  end.  My  greatest  wish  in  life  now  is  that  he  may 
meet  a  woman  worthy  of  him,  who  will  love  him  as  he 
deserves  to  be  loved,  before  I  climb  the  peaks  of  Paradise 
and  find  my  beloved  in  the  dawning."  Isabel's  voice 
sank.  She  pressed  Dinah  close  against  her  heart.  "It 
will  not  be  long,"  she  whispered.  "I  have  had  a  message 
that  there  is  no  mistaking,  I  know  it  will  not  be  long.  But 
oh,  darling,  I  do  want  to  see  him  happy  first. " 

Dinah  was  crying  softly.  She  could  find  no  words  to 
utter. 

So  for  awhile  they  clung  together,  the  woman  who  had 
suffered  and  come  at  last  through  bitter  tribulation  into 
peace,  and  the  child  whose  feet  yet  halted  on  the  threshold 
of  the  enchanted  country  that  the  other  had  long  since 
traversed  and  left  behind. 

Nothing  further  passed  between  them.  Isabel  had  said 
her  say,  and  for  some  reason  Dinah  was  powerless  to  speak. 
She  could  think  of  no  words  to  utter,  and  deep  in  her  heart 
she  was  half  afraid  to  break  the  silence.  That  sudden 
agitation  of  hers  had  left  her  oddly  confused  and  embar- 
rassed. She  shrank  from  pursuing  the  matter  further. 

Yet  for  a  long  time  that  night  she  lay  awake  pondering, 
wondering.  Certainly  Scott  was  different  from  all  other 
men,  totally,  undeniably  different.  He  seemed  to  dwell 


The  True  Gold  215 

on  a  different  plane.  She  could  not  grasp  what  it  was  about 
him  that  set  him  thus  apart.  But  what  Isabel  had  said 
showed  her  very  clearly  that  the  spirit  that  dwelt  behind 
that  unimposing  exterior  was  a  force  that  counted,  and 
could  hold  its  own  against  odds. 

She  slept  at  last  with  the  thought  of  him  still  present 
in  her  mind.  And  in  her  dreams  the  vision  of  Greatheart 
in  his  shining  armour  came  to  her  again,  filling  her  with  a 
happiness  which  even  sleeping  she  did  not  dare  to  analyse, 
scarcely  to  contemplate. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

THE  CALL  OF  APOLLO 

DINAH'S  strength  came  back  to  her  in  leaps  and  bounds, 
and  three  weeks  after  the  de  Vignes's  departure  she 
was  almost  herself  again.  The  season  was  drawing  to  a 
close.  The  holidays  were  over,  and  English  people  were 
turning  homeward.  Very  reluctantly  Isabel  had  to  admit 
that  her  charge  was  well  enough  for  the  journey  back.  Mrs. 
Bathurst  wrote  in  an  insistent  strain,  urging  that  the  time 
had  come  for  her  to  return,  and  no  further  excuse  could  be 
invented  for  keeping  her  longer. 

They  decided  to  return  themselves  and  take  Dinah  to 
her  home,  Isabel  having  determined  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  redoubtable  Mrs.  Bathurst,  and  persuade  her  to 
spare  her  darling  to  them  again  in  the  summer.  The  coming 
parting  was  hard  to  face,  so  hard  that  Dinah  could  not  bear 
to  speak  of  it.  She  shed  a  good  many  tears  in  private,  as 
Isabel  was  well  aware;  but  she  never  willingly  made  any 
reference  to  the  ordeal  she  so  dreaded. 

The  only  time  she  voluntarily  broached  the  subject 
was  when  she  entreated  to  be  allowed  to  go  down  to  the  last 
dance  that  was  to  be  held  in  the  hotel.  It  chanced  that  this 
was  fixed  for  the  night  before  their  own  departure,  and 
Isabel  demurred  somewhat;  for  though  Dinah  had  shaken 
off  most  of  her  invalid  habits,  she  was  still  far  from  robust. 

"You  will  be  so  tired  in  the  morning,  darling,"  she  pro- 
tested gently,  while  Dinah  knelt  beside  her,  earnestly  plead- 

216 


The  Call  of  Apollo  217 

ing.  "You  will  get  that  tiresome  side-ache,  and  you  won't 
be  fit  to  travel." 

"I  shall — I  shall,"  Dinah  assured  her.  "Oh,  please, 
dear,  just  this  once — just  this  once — let  me  have  this  one 
more  fling!  I  shall  never  have  another  chance.  I'm  sure 
I  never  shall." 

Isabel's  hand  stroked  the  soft  dark  hair  caressingly. 
She  saw  that  Dinah  was  very  near  to  tears.  "I  don't  be- 
lieve I  ought  to  say  Yes,  dear  child, "  she  said.  "  You  know 
I  hate  to  deny  you  anything.  But  if  it  were  to  do  you 
harm,  I  should  never  forgive  myself." 

"It  couldn't!  It  shan't!"  declared  Dinah,  almost  inco- 
herent in  her  vehemence.  "  It  isn't  as  if  I  wanted  to  dance 
every  dance.  I'd  come  and  sit  out  with  you  in  between. 
And  if  I  got  tired,  you  could  take  me  away.  I  would  go 
directly  if  you  said  so.  Really  I  would." 

She  was  hard  to  resist,  kneeling  there  with  her  arms 
about  Isabel  and  her  bright  eyes  lifted.  Isabel  took  the 
sweet  face  between  her  hands  and  kissed  it. 

' '  Let  me  ask  Scott  what  he  thinks ! ' '  she  said.  ' '  I  want  to 
give  in  to  you,  Dinah  darling,  but  it's  against  my  judgment. 
If  it  is  against  his  judgment  too,  will  you  be  content  to 
give  it  up?" 

"Oh,  of  course,"  said  Dinah  instantly.  She  was  confi- 
dent that  Scott — that  kind  and  gentle  friend  of  hers — 
would  deny  her  nothing.  It  seemed  almost  superfluous 
to  ask  him. 

The  words  had  scarcely  left  her  lips  when  his  quiet 
knock  came  at  the  sitting-room  door,  and  he  entered. 

She  looked  round  at  him  with  a  smile  of  quick  welcome. 
"I'll  give  it  up  in  a  minute  if  he  says  so,"  she  said. 

Isabel  turned  in  her  chair.  "Come  here,  Stumpy!"  she 
said.  "We  want  your  advice.  We  are  talking  about  the 
dance  to-night.  Dinah  has  set  her  heart  on  going.  Would 
it — do  you  think  it  would — do  her  any  harm?" 


218  Greatheart 

Scott  came  up  to  them  in  his  halting  way.  He  looked  at 
Dinah  pressed  close  to  his  sister's  side,  and  his  smile  was 
very  kindly  as  he  said,  "Poor  little  Cinderella!  It's  hard 
lines;  but,  you  know,  the  doctor's  last  words  to  you  were  a 
warning  against  over-exerting  yourself. " 

"But  I  shouldn't,"  she  assured  him  eagerly.  "Really, 
truly,  I  shouldn't !  I  walked  all  the  way  to  the  village  with 
you  yesterday,  and  wasn't  a  bit  tired — or  hardly  a  bit — 
when  I  got  back." 

"You  looked  jaded  to  death, "  he  said. 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is  thumbs  down, "  said  Isabel,  a  touch  of 
regret  in  her  voice. 

"Oh  no, — no!"  entreated  Dinah.  "Mr.  Studley,  please 
— please  say  I  may  go !  I  promise  I  won't  dance  too  much. 
I  promise  I'll  stop  directly  I'm  tired." 

"  My  dear  child, "  Scott  said,  "it  would  be  sheer  madness 
for  you  to  attempt  to  dance  at  all.  Isabel,"  he  turned 
to  his  sister  with  most  unusual  sharpness,  "how  can  you 
tantalize  her  in  this  way  ?  Say  No  at  once !  You  know  per- 
fectly well  she  isn't  fit  for  it." 

Isabel  made  no  attempt  to  argue  the  point.  "You 
hear,  Dinah?"  she  said. 

A  quick  throb  of  anger  went  through  Dinah.  She  dis- 
engaged herself  quickly,  and  stood  up.  "Mr.  Studley," 
she  said  in  a  voice  that  quivered,  "it's  not  right — it's  not 
fair !  How  can  you  know  what  is  good  for  me  ?  And  even 
if  you  did,  what — what  right —  She  broke  off,  trembling 
and  holding  to  Isabel's  chair  to  steady  herself. 

Scott's  eyes,  very  level,  very  kind,  were  looking  straight 
at  her  in  a  fashion  that  checked  the  hot  words  on  her 
lips.  " My  child,  no  right  whatever, "  he  said.  "I  have  no 
more  power  to  control  your  actions  than  the  man  in  the 
moon.  But  if  you  want  my  approval  to  your  scheme,  I  can't 
give  it  you.  I  don't  approve,  and  because  I  don't,  I  tell 
Isabel  that  she  ought  to  refuse  to  carry  it  through.  I  have 


The  Call  of  Apollo  219 

no  right  to  control  her  either,  but  I  think  my  opinion  means 
something  to  her.  I  hope  it  does  at  least. " 

He  looked  at  Isabel,  but  she  said  nothing.  Only  she  put 
her  arm  about  Dinah  as  she  stood. 

There  followed  a  few  moments  of  very  difficult  silence; 
then  abruptly  the  mutiny  went  out  of  Dinah's  face  and 
attitude. 

"I'm  horrid,"  she  said,  in  a  voice  half-choked.  "For- 
give me!  You — you  shouldn't  spoil  me  so." 

"Oh,  don't,  please!"  said  Scott.  "I  am  infernally  sorry. 
I  know  what  it  means  to  you." 

He  took  out  his  cigarette-case  and  turned  away  with  a 
touch  of  embarrassment.  She  saw  that  for  some  reason  he 
was  moved. 

Impulsively  she  left  Isabel  and  came  to  him.  "Don't 
think  any  more  about  it ! "  she  said.  "  I'll  go  to  bed  and  be 
good." 

"You  always  are,"  said  Scott,  faintly  smiling. 

"No,  no,  I'm  not!  What  a  fib!  You  know  I'm  not. 
But  I'm  going  to  be  good  this  time — so  that  you  shall 
have  something  nice  to  remember  me  by."  Dinah's  voice 
quivered  still,  but  she  managed  to  smile. 

He  gave  her  a  quick  look.  "You  will  always  be  the 
pleasantest  memory  I  have,"  he  said. 

The  words  were  quietly  spoken,  so  quietly  that  they 
sounded  almost  matter-of-fact.  But  Dinah  flushed  with 
pleasure,  detecting  the  sincerity  in  his  voice. 

"It's  very  nice  of  you  to  say  that, "  she  said,  "especially 
as  I  deserve  it  so  little.  Thank  you,  Mr. — Scott!"  She 
uttered  the  name  timidly.  She  had  never  ventured  to  use 
it  before. 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  her.  "Oh,  drop  the  prefix!" 
he  said.  ' '  Call  me  Stumpy  like  the  rest  of  the  world ! ' ' 

But  Dinah  shook  her  head  with  vehemence.  There 
were  tears  standing  in  her  eyes,  but  she  smiled  through 


22  o  Greatheart 

them.  "I  will  not  call  you  Stumpy!"  she  declared.  "It 
doesn't  suit  you  a  bit.  I  never  even  think  of  you  by  that 
name.  It — it  is  perfectly  ludicrous  applied  to  you!" 

"Some  people  think  I  am  ludicrous, "  observed  Scott. 

His  hand  grasped  hers  firmly  for  a  moment,  and  let  it 
go.  The  steadfast  friendliness  in  his  eyes  shone  out  like  a 
beacon.  And  there  came  to  Dinah  a  swift  sense  of  great 
and  uplifting  pride  at  the  thought  that  she  numbered  this 
man  among  her  friends. 

The  moment  passed,  but  the  warmth  at  her  heart  re- 
mained. She  went  back  to  Isabel,  and  slipped  down  into 
the  shelter  of  her  arm,  feeling  oddly  shy  and  also  inex- 
plicably happy.  Her  disappointment  had  shrunk  to  a 
negligible  quantity.  She  even  wondered  at  herself  for 
having  cared  so  greatly  about  so  trifling  a  matter. 

There  came  the  firm  tread  of  a  man's  feet  outside  the 
door,  and  it  swung  open.  Eustace  entered  with  his  air  of 
high  confidence. 

"Ah,  Stumpy,  there  you  are!  I  want  you.  Well,  Miss 
Bat  hurst,  what  about  to-night?" 

She  faced  him  bravely  from  Isabel's  side.  "  I've  promised 
to  go  to  bed  early,  as  usual,  "  she  said. 

"What?  -You're  not  dancing?"  She  saw  his  ready 
frown.  "Well,  you  will  come  and  look  on  anyway.  Isabel, 
you  must  show  for  once. " 

He  spoke  imperiously.  Isabel  looked  up.  "I  am 
sorry,  Eustace.  It  is  out  of  the  question, "  she  said  coldly. 
"Both  Dinah  and  I  are  retiring  early  in  preparation  for  to- 
morrow." 

He  bit  his  lip.  "  This  is  too  bad.  Miss  Bathurst,  don't 
you  want  to  come  down?  It's  for  the  last  time." 

Dinah  hesitated,  and  Scott  came  quietly  to  her  rescue. 

"She  is  being  prudent  against  her  own  inclination,  old 
chap.  Don't  make  it  hard  for  her!" 

"What  a  confounded  shame!"  said  Eustace. 


The  Call  of  Apollo  221 

"No,  no,  it  isn't!"  said  Dinah.  "It  is  quite  right.  I 
am  not  going  to  think  any  more  about  it. " 

He  laughed  with  a  touch  of  mockery.  "Which  means 
you  will  probably  think  about  it  all  night.  Well,  you  will 
have  the  reward  of  virtue  anyhow,  which  ought  to  be  very 
satisfying.  Come  along,  Stumpy!  I  want  you  to  catch 
the  post. " 

He  bore  his  brother  off  with  him,  and  Dinah  went  rather 
wistfully  to  help  Biddy  pack.  She  had  done  right,  she 
knew;  but  it  was  difficult  to  stifle  the  regret  in  her  heart. 
She  had  so  longed  for  that  one  last  dance,  and  it  seemed  to 
her  that  she  had  treated  Sir  Eustace  somewhat  shabbily 
also.  She  was  sure  that  he  was  displeased,  and  the  thought 
of  it  troubled  her.  For  she  had  almost  promised  him  that 
last  dance. 

"Arrah  thin,  Miss  Dinah  dear,  don't  ye  look  so  sad  at 
all!"  counselled  Biddy.  "Good  times  pass,  but  there's 
always  good  times  to  come  while  ye're  young.  And  it's 
the  bonny  face  ye've  got  on  ye.  Sure,  there'll  be  a  fine 
wedding  one  of  these  days.  There's  a  prince  looking  for 
ye,  or  me  name's  not  Biddy  Maloney. " 

Dinah  tried  to  smile,  but  her  heart  was  heavy.  She 
could  not  share  Biddy's  cheery  belief  in  the  good  times  to 
come,  and  she  was  quite  sure  that  no  prince  would  ever 
come  her  way. 

Sir  Eustace — that  king  among  men — might  think  of  her 
sometimes,  but  not  seriously,  oh  no,  not  seriously.  He  had 
so  many  other  interests.  It  was  only  her  dancing  that 
drew  him,  and  he  would  never  have  another  opportunity  of 
enjoying  that. 

She  rested  in  the  afternoon  at  Isabel's  desire,  but  she  did 
not  sleep.  Some  teasing  sprite  had  set  a  waltz  refrain 
running  in  her  brain,  and  it  haunted  her  perpetually.  She 
went  down  to  the  vestibule  with  Isabel  for  tea,  and  here 
Scott  joined  them;  but  Sir  Eustace  did  not  put  in  an 


222  Greatheart 

appearance.  In  their  company  she  sought  to  be  cheer- 
ful, and  in  a  measure  succeeded;  but  the  thought  of 
the  morrow  pressed  upon  her.  In  another  brief  twenty- 
four  hours  this  place  where  she  had  first  known  the  wonder 
and  the  glory  of  life  would  know  her  no  more.  In 
two  days  she  would  be  back  in  the  old  bondage, 
chained  once  more  to  the  oar,  with  the  dread  of  her 
mother  ever  present  in  her  heart,  however  fair  the  world 
might  be. 

She  could  keep  her  depression  more  or  less  at  bay  in 
the  presence  of  her  friends,  but  when  later  she  went  to  her 
room  to  prepare  for  dinner  something  like  desperation 
seized  her.  How  was  she  going  to  bear  it?  One  last  wild 
fling  would  have  helped  her,  but  this  inaction  made  things 
infinitely  worse,  made  things  intolerable. 

While  she  dressed,  she  waged  a  fierce  struggle  against 
her  tears.  She  knew  that  Isabel  would  be  greatly  distressed 
should  she  detect  them,  and  to  hurt  Isabel  seemed  to  her 
the  acme  of  selfish  cruelty.  She  would  not  give  way !  She 
would  not ! 

And  then — suddenly  she  heard  a  step  in  the  corridor, 
and  her  heart  leapt.  Well  she  knew  that  careless,  confident 
tread!  But  what  was  he  doing  there?  Why  had  he  come 
to  her  door? 

With  bated  breath  she  stood  and  listened.  Yes,  he  had 
paused.  In  a  moment  she  heard  a  rustle  on  the  floor.  A 
screw  of  paper  appeared  under  the  door  as  though  blown  in 
by  a  wandering  wind.  Then  the  careless  feet  retreated 
again,  and  she  thought  she  heard  him  whistling  below  his 
breath. 

Eagerly  she  swooped  forward  and  snatched  up  the  note. 
Her  hands  shook  so  that  she  could  scarcely  open  it.  Trem- 
bling, she  stood  under  the  light  to  read  it. 

It  was  headed  in  a  bold  hand:  "To  Daphne."  And 
below  in  much  smaller  writing  she  read: 


The  Call  of  Apollo  223 

"  Come  to  the  top  of  the  stairs  when  the  band  plays  Simple 
Aveu,  and  leave  the  rest  to  me. 

"APOLLO." 

A  wild  thrill  went  through  her.  But  could  she?  Dared 
she?  Had  she  not  practically  promised  Isabel  that  she 
would  go  to  bed? 

Yet  how  could  she  go,  and  leave  this  direct  invitation, 
which  was  almost  a  command,  unanswered?  And  it  was 
only  one  dance — only  one  dance!  Would  it  be  so  very 
wrong  to  snatch  just  that  one? 

The  thought  of  Scott  came  to  her  and  the  look  of  sin- 
cerity in  his  eyes  when  he  had  told  her  that  she  would 
always  be  the  pleasantest  memory  he  had.  But  she  thrust 
it  from  her  almost  fiercely.  Ah  no,  no,  no!  She  could  not 
let  him  deprive  her  thus  of  this  one  last  gaiety.  Apollo  had 
called  her.  It  only  remained  for  her  to  obey. 

She  dressed  in  a  fever  of  excitement,  and  hid  the 
note — that  precious  note  —  in  her  bosom.  She  would 
meet  him  at  dinner,  and  he  would  look  for  an  answer. 
How  should  she  convey  it?  And  oh,  what  answer  should 
she  give? 

Looking  back  afterwards,  it  seemed  to  her  that  Fate  had 
pressed  her  hard  that  night, — so  hard  that  resistance  was 
impossible.  When  she  was  dressed  in  the  almost  childishly 
simple  muslin  she  looked  herself  in  the  eyes  and  fancied  that 
there  was  something  in  her  face  that  she  had  never  seen 
there  before.  It  was  something  that  pleased  her  immensely 
giving  her  a  strangely  new  self-confidence.  She  did  not 
wot  that  it  was  the  charm  of  her  coming  womanhood  that 
had  burst  into  sudden  flower. 

At  the  last  moment  she  cast  all  her  scruples  away  from 
her,  and  snatched  up  a  slip  of  paper. 

"I  will  be  there.  Daphne,"  were  the  words  she  wrote, 
and  though  her  conscience  smote  her  as  she  did  it,  she 


224  Greatheart 

stifled  it  fiercely.  Had  she  not  promised  him  that  one 
dance  long  ago? 

She  met  him  at  dinner  with  a  face  of  smiling  unconcern. 
The  new  force  within  had  imbued  her  with  a  wondrous 
strength.  She  exulted  in  the  thought  of  her  power  over 
him,  transient  though  she  knew  it  to  be.  Deep  down  in  her 
heart  she  was  afraid,  yet  was  she  wildly  daring.  It  was  her 
last  night,  and  she  was  utterly  reckless. 

She  left  her  note  in  his  hand  with  the  utmost  coolness 
when  she  bade  him  good  night  in  the  vestibule.  She  bade 
good  night  to  Scott  also,  but  she  met  his  eyes  for  no  more 
than  a  second;  and  then  she  had  to  stifle  afresh  the  sharp 
pang  at  her  heart. 

She  went  away  up  the  stairs  with  Isabel,  leaving  them 
smoking  over  their  coffee,  leaving  also  the  dreamy  strains  of 
the  band,  the  gay  laughter  and  movement  of  the  happy 
crowd  that  drifted  towards  the  ballroom. 

Isabel  accompanied  her  to  her  room.  "You  are  a  dear, 
good  child,"  she  said  tenderly,  as  she  held  her  for  a  last 
kiss.  "I  shall  never  forget  how  sweetly  you  gave  up  the 
thing  you  wanted  so  much." 

Dinah  clung  to  her  fast  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  her  hold 
was  passionate.  "Oh,  don't  praise  me  for  that!"  she 
whispered  into  Isabel's  neck.  "  I  am  not  good  at  all.  I  am 
very  bad." 

She  almost  tore  herself  free  a  second  later,  and  Isabel, 
divining  that  any  further  demonstration  from  her  would 
cause  a  breakdown,  bade  her  a  loving  good  night  and  went 
away. 

Dinah  stood  awhile  struggling  for  self-control.  She  had 
been  perilously  near  to  baring  her  soul  to  Isabel  in  those 
moments  of  tenderness.  Even  now  the  impulse  urged  her 
to  run  after  her  and  tell  her  of  the  temptation  to  which  she 
was  yielding.  She  forced  it  down  with  clenched  hands, 
telling  herself  over  and  over  that  it  was  her  last  chance,  her 


The  Call  of  Apollo  225 

last  chance,  and  she  must  not  lose  it.  And  so  at  length  it 
passed;  and  with  it  passed  also  the  pricks  of  conscience  that 
had  so  troubled  her.  She  emerged  from  the  brief  struggle 
with  a  sense  of  mad  triumph.  The  spirit  of  adventure  had 
entered  into  her,  and  she  no  longer  paused  to  count  the 
cost. 

"I  expect  I  shall  be  sorry  in  the  morning,"  she  said 
to  herself.  "But  to-night — oh,  to-night — nothing  matters 
except  Apollo!" 

She  whisked  to  the  door  and  set  it  ajar.  The  dance-music 
drew  her,  drew  her,  like  the  voice  of  a  siren.  For  that  one 
night  she  would  live  again.  She  would  feel  his  arm  about 
her  and  the  magic  in  her  brain.  Already  her  feet  yearned 
to  the  alluring  rhythm.  She  leaned  against  the  door-post, 
and  gave  herself  up  to  her  dream.  Yet  once  more  the  wine 
of  the  gods  was  held  to  her  lips.  She  would  drink  deeply, 
deeply, 
is 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE  GOLDEN  MAZE 

SOFTLY  the  strains  of  Simple  Aveu  floated  along  the 
corridor.  It  came  like  fairy  music,  now  near,  now 
far,  haunting  as  a  dream,  woven  through  and  through  with 
the  gold  of  Romance. 

Someone  was  coming  along  the  passage  with  the  easy 
swing  of  the  born  dancer,  and  pressed  against  her  door-post 
in  the  shadows,  another  born  dancer  awaited  him  with  a 
wildly  throbbing  heart. 

The  die  was  cast,  and  there  was  no  going  back.  She 
heard  the  deep  voice  humming  the  magic  melody  as  he 
came.  In  a  moment  the  superb  figure  came  into  sight, 
moving  with  that  royal  ease  of  carriage  so  characteristic 
and  so  wonderful. 

He  drew  near.  He  spied  the  smali  white  figure  lurking 
in  the  dimness.  With  a  low  laugh  he  opened  his  arms  to  her. 

And  then  there  came  to  Dinah,  not  for  the  first  time, 
a  strange,  wholly  indefinable  misgiving.  It  was  a  warning 
so  insistent  that  she  suddenly  and  swiftly  drew  back,  as  if 
she  would  flee  into  the  room  behind  her. 

But  he  was  too  quick  for  her.  He  caught  her  on  the 
threshold.  "Oh  no,  no!"  he  laughed.  "That's  not  play- 
ing the  game."  He  drew  her  to  him,  holding  her  two 
wrists.  "Daphne!  Daphne!"  he  said.  "Still  running 
away?  Do  you  call  that  fair?" 

She  did  not  resist  him,  for  the  moment  she  felt  his  touch 

226 


The  Golden  Maze  227 

she  knew  herself  a  captive.  The  magic  force  of  his  person- 
ality had  caught  her;  but  she  did  not  give  herself  wholly 
to  him.  She  stood  and  palpitated  in  his  hold,  her  head 
bent  low. 

"I — I'm  not  running  away,"  she  told  him  breathlessly. 
"I  was  just — just  coming.  But — but — shan't  we  be  seen? 
Your  brother ' 

"What?"  He  was  stooping  over  her;  she  felt  his  breath 
upon  her  neck.  "Oh,  Scott!  Surely  you're  not  afraid 
of  Scott,  are  you?  You  needn't  be.  I've  sent  him  off 
to  write  some  letters.  He'll  be  occupied  for  an  hour  at 
least.  Come!  Come!  You  promised.  And  we're  wasting 
time." 

There  was  a  subtle  caressing  note  in  his  voice.  It 
thrilled  her  as  she  stood,  and  ever  the  soft  music  drifted 
on  around  them,  pulsing  with  a  sweetness  almost  too  intense 
to  be  borne. 

He  held  her  with  the  hold  of  a  conqueror.  She  was 
quivering  from  head  to  foot,  but  all  desire  to  free  herself 
was  gone.  Still  she  would  not  raise  her  face. 

Panting,  she  spoke.  "Yes,  we — we  are  wasting  time. 
Let  us  go!" 

He  laughed  above  her  head — a  low  laugh  of  absolute 
assurance.  "Are  you  too  shy  to  look  at  me, — Daphne?" 

She  laughed  also  very  tremulously.  "I  think  I  am — 
just  at  present.  Let  us  dance  first  anyway!  Must  we  go 
down  to  the  salon?  Couldn't  we  dance  in  the  corridor?" 

His  arm  was  round  her.  He  led  her  down  the  passage. 
"No,  no!  We  will  go  down.  And  afterwards — 

"Afterwards,"  she  broke  in  breathlessly,  "we  will  just 
peep  at  the  moonlight  on  the  mountains,  and  then  I  must 
come  back." 

"  I  will  show  you  something  better  than  the  moonlight  on 
the  mountains,"  said  Sir  Eustace. 

She  did  not  ask  him  what  he  meant,  though  her  whole 


228  Greatheart 

being  was  strung  to  a  tense  expectancy.  He  had  brought 
her  once  more  to  the  heights  of  Olympus,  and  each  moment 
was  full  of  a  vivid  life  that  had  to  be  lived  to  the  utmost. 
She  lacked  the  strength  to  look  forward ;  the  present  was  too 
overwhelming.  It  was  almost  more  than  she  could  bear. 

They  reached  the  head  of  the  stairs.  His  arm  tightened 
about  her.  She  descended  as  though  upon  wings.  Pass- 
ing through  the  vestibule,  her  feet  did  not  seem  to  touch 
the  ground.  And  then  like  a  golden  maze  the  ballroom 
received  them. 

Before  she  knew  it,  they  were  among  the  dancers  and  the 
magic  of  her  dream  had  merged  into  reality.  She  closed 
her  eyes,  for  the  glare  of  light  and  moving  figures  dazzled 
her,  and  gave  herself  up  to  the  rapture  of  that  one  splendid 
dance.  Her  heart  was  beating  wildly,  as  though  it  would 
choke  her.  A  curious  thirst  that  yet  was  part  of  her 
delight  made  her  throat  burn.  A  weakness  that  exulted  in 
the  man's  supporting  strength  held  her  bound  and  en- 
tranced by  such  an  ecstasy  as  she  had  never  known  before. 
She  laughed,  a  gurgling  laugh  through  panting  lips.  She 
wondered  whether  he  realized  that  she  was  floating  through 
the  air,  held  up  by  his  arm  alone  above  the  glitter  and  the 
turmoil  all  around  them.  She  wondered  too  how  soon  they 
would  find  their  way  to  the  heart  of  that  golden  maze,  and 
what  nameless  treasure  awaited  them  there.  For  that  that 
treasure  was  for  them,  and  them  alone,  she  never  doubted. 
It  was  the  gift  of  the  gods,  bestowed  upon  no  others  in  all 
that  merry  crowd. 

The  magic  deepened  and  grew  within  her.  She  felt  that 
the  climax  was  drawing  near.  He  would  not  dance  to  a 
finish,  she  knew,  and  already  the  music  was  quickening. 
She  was  too  giddy,  too  spent  had  she  but  known  it,  to  open 
her  eyes.  Only  by  instinct  did  she  know  that  he  was  bear- 
ing her,  sure  and  swift  as  a  swallow,  to  the  curtained  recess 
whither  he  had  led  her  twice  before.  This,  she  told  herself, 


The  Golden  Maze  229 

this  was  the  heart  of  the  maze.  All  things  began  and  ended 
here.  Her  lips  quivered  and  tingled.  She  would  never 
escape  him  now.  He  had  her  firmly  in  the  net.  Nor  did 
she  seriously  want  to  escape.  Only  she  felt  desperately 
afraid  of  him.  His  strength,  his  determination,  above  all, 
his  silence,  sent  tumultuous  fear  throbbing  through  her 
heart.  And  when  at  length  the  pause  came,  when  she  knew 
that  they  were  alone  in  the  gloom  with  the  music  dying  away 
behind  them,  a  last  wild  dread  that  was  almost  anguish 
made  her  hide  her  face  deep,  deep  in  his  arm  while  her  body 
hung  powerless  in  his  embrace. 

He  laughed  a  little — a  laugh  that  thrilled  her  with  its 
exultation,  its  passion.  And  then,  whether  she  would  or 
not,  he  turned  her  face  upwards  to  meet  his  own. 

His  kisses  descended  upon  her  hotly,  suffocatingly.  He 
held  her  pressed  to  him  in  such  a  grip  as  seemed  to  drive  all 
the  breath  out  of  her  quivering  frame.  His  lips  were  like  a 
fierce  flame  on  face  and  neck — a  flame  that  grew  in  in- 
tensity, possessing  her,  consuming  her.  The  mastery  of  his 
hold  was  utterly  irresistible. 

She  gasped  and  gasped  for  breath  as  one  suddenly  plunged 
in  deep  waters.  His  violence  appalled  her,  well-nigh 
quenching  her  rapture.  She  was  more  terrified  in  those 
moments  than  she  had  ever  been  before.  She  almost  felt 
as  if  the  godlike  being  she  had  so  humbly  adored  from  afar 
had  turned  upon  her  with  the  demand  for  human  sacrifice. 
Those  devouring  kisses  sent  unimagined  apprehensions 
through  her  heart.  They  seemed  to  satisfy  him  so  little 
while  they  sapped  from  her  every  atom  of  vitality,  leaving 
her  helpless  as  an  infant,  her  body  drawn  to  his  as  a  needle 
to  the  magnet,  not  of  her  own  volition,  but  simply  by  his 
strength.  And  ever  the  fire  of  his  passion  grew  hotter  till 
she  felt  as  one  bound  on  the  edge  of  a  mighty  furnace  which 
scorched  her  mercilessly  from  head  to  foot. 

She  was  near  to  fainting  when  she  felt  his  arms  relax, 


230  Greatheart 

and  suddenly  above  her  upturned  face  she  heard  his  voice, 
low  and  deep,  like  the  growl  of  an  angry  beast. 

"What  have  you  come  here  for?  Go!  You're  not 
wanted. " 

In  a  flash  she  realized  that  they  were  no  longer  alone. 
She  would  have  disengaged  herself,  but  she  was  too  weak  to 
stand.  She  could  only  cling  feebly  to  the  supporting  arm. 

In  that  moment  a  great  wave  of  humiliation  burst  over 
her,  sweeping  away  her  last  foothold.  For  without  turning 
she  knew  who  it  was  who  stood  behind  her;  she  knew  to 
whom  those  furious  words  had  been  addressed. 

Before  her  inner  sight  with  overwhelming  vividness  there 
arose  a  vision — the  vision  of  Greatheart  in  his  shining 
armour  with  a  drawn  sword  in  his  hand ;  and  in  his  eyes — 
But  no,  she  could  not  look  into  his  eyes. 

She  hid  her  face  instead,  burning  and  quivering  still 
from  the  touch  of  those  passionate  lips,  hid  it  low  against 
her  lover's  breast,  too  shamed  even  for  speech. 

There  came  a  movement,  the  halting  movement  of  a  lame 
man,  and  she  heard  Scott's  voice.  It  pierced  her  intoler- 
ably, perfectly  gentle  though  it  was. 

"I  am  sorry  to  intrude,"  he  said.  "But  Isabel  begged 
me  to  come  and  look  for — Dinah."  His  pause  before  the 
name  was  scarcely  perceptible,  but  that  also  pierced  her 
through  and  through.  "I  don't  think  she  is  quite  equal  to 
this." 

Sir  Eustace  uttered  his  faint,  contemptuous  laugh. 
"You  hear,  Dinah?"  he  said.  "This  gallant  knight  has 
come  to  your  rescue.  Look  up  and  tell  him  if  you  want  to 
be  rescued!" 

But  she  could  not  look  up.  She  could  only  cling  to  him  in 
voiceless  abasement.  There  was  a  brief  silence,  and  then 
she  felt  his  hand  upon  her  head.  He  spoke  again,  the 
sneering  note  gone  from  his  voice  though  it  still  held  a  faint 
inflection  of  sardonic  humour. 


The  Golden  Maze  231 

"You  needn't  be  anxious,  most  worthy  Scott.  Leave  her 
to  me  for  five  minutes,  and  I  will  undertake  to  return  her 
to  Isabel  in  good  condition!  You're  not  wanted  for  the 
moment,  man.  Can't  you  see  it?" 

That  moved  Dinah.  She  lifted  her  head  from  its  shelter, 
and  found  her  voice. 

"Oh,  don't  send  him  away ! "  she  entreated.  " He — he — 
it  was  very  kind  of  him  to  come  and  look  for  me." 

Eustace's  hand  caressed  her  dark  hair  for  a  moment. 
His  eyes  looked  down  into  hers,  and  she  saw  that  the 
glowing  embers  of  his  passion  still  smouldered  there. 

She  caught  her  breath  with  a  sob.  "Tell  him — not  to 
go  away!"  she  begged. 

He  smiled  a  little,  but  electricity  lingered  in  the  pressure 
of  his  arm.  "  I  think  it  is  time  we  broke  up  the  meeting, " 
he  said.  "  You  had  better  run  back  to  Isabel.  If  you  wish 
to  keep  this  episode  a  secret,  Scott  is,  I  believe,  gentleman 
enough  to  hold  his  peace." 

She  was  free,  and  very  slowly  she  released  herself.  She 
turned  round  to  Scott,  but  still  she  could  not — dared  not — 
meet  his  eyes. 

Her  limbs  were  trembling  painfully.  She  felt  weak  and 
dizzy.  Suddenly  she  became  aware  of  his  hand  held  out  to 
her,  proffering  silent  assistance. 

Thankfully  she  accepted  it,  feeling  it  close  firmly,  reas- 
suringly, upon  her  own.  " Shall  we  go  upstairs? "  he  asked, 
in  his  quiet,  matter-of-fact  way.  "  Isabel  is  a  little  anxious 
about  you." 

"Oh  yes,"  she  whispered  tremulously.     "Let  us  go!" 

She  tottered  a  little  with  the  words,  and  he  transferred 
his  hold  to  her  elbow.  He  supported  her  steadily  and 
sustainingly. 

Eustace  stepped  forward,  and  lifted  the  heavy  curtain 
for  them  with  a  mask-like  ceremony.  She  glanced  up  at 
him  as  she  went  through. 


232  Greatheart 

41 Good  night!"  he  said. 

Her  lips  quivered  in  response. 

He  suddenly  bent  to  her.     "Good  night!"  he  said  again. 

There  was  imperious  insistence  in  his  voice.  His  eyes 
compelled. 

Mutely  she  responded  to  the  mastery  that  would  not  be 
denied.  She  lifted  her  trembling  lips  to  his;  and  deliber- 
ately— in  Scott's  presence — he  kissed  her. 

"Sleep  well!"  he  said  lightly. 

She  returned  his  kiss,  because  she  could  not  do  otherwise. 
She  felt  as  if  he  had  so  merged  her  will  into  his  that  she  was 
deprived  of  all  power  to  resist. 

But  the  hand  that  held  her  arm  urged  her  with  quiet 
strength.  It  led  her  unfalteringly  away. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE  LESSON 

TEN  minutes  later  Scott    descended   the   stairs    alone 
and  returned  to  the  salon. 

A  dance  was  in  progress.  He  stood  for  a  space  in  the 
doorway,  watching.  Finally,  having  satisfied  himself  that 
his  brother  was  not  among  the  dancers,  he  turned  away. 

With  his  usual  quietness  of  demeanour,  he  crossed  the 
vestibule,  and  looked  into  the  smoking-room.  Sir  Eustace 
was  not  there  either,  and  he  was  closing  the  door  again 
when  the  man  himself  came  up  the  passage  behind  him,  and 
clapped  a  careless  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

"Are  you  looking  for  me,  most  doughty  knight?"  he 
asked. 

Scott  turned  so  sharply  that  the  hand  fell.  "Yes,  I 
am  looking  for  you,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  was  unusually 
curt.  "Come  outside  a  minute,  will  you?  I  want  to  speak 
to  you." 

"I  am  not  going  outside,"  Sir  Eustace  said,  with  exas- 
perating coolness.  "If  you  want  to  talk,  you  can  come  in 
here  and  smoke  with  me." 

" I  must  be  alone  with  you, "  Scott  said  briefly.  "There 
are  two  or  three  men  in  there. " 

His  brother  gave  him  a  look  of  amused  curiosity.  "Do 
you  want  to  do  something  violent  then?  There's  plenty 
of  room  for  a  quiet  talk  in  there  without  disturbing  or  being 
disturbed  by  anyone." 

233 


234  Greatheart 

But  Scott  stood  his  ground.  "I  must  see  you  alone  for 
a  minute,"  he  said  stubbornly.  "You  can  come  to  my 
room,  or  I  will  come  to  yours, — whichever  you  like. " 

Sir  Eustace  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "You  are  damned 
persistent.  I  don't  know  that  I  am  specially  anxious  to 
hear  what  you  have  to  say.  In  any  case  it  can  keep  till 
the  morning.  I  can't  be  bothered  now." 

Scott's  hand  grasped  his  arm.  A  queer  gleam  shone  in 
his  pale  eyes.  "Man,"  he  said,  "I  think  you  had  better 
hear  me  now." 

Eustace  looked  down  at  him,  half-sneering,  half-im- 
pressed. "What  a  mule  you  are,  Stumpy!  Come  along 
then  if  you  must !  But  you  had  better  mind  how  you  go. 
I'm  in  no  mood  for  trifling. " 

"Nor  I,"  said  Scott,  with  very  unaccustomed  bitterness. 

He  kept  his  hand  upon  his  brother's  arm  as  they  turned. 
He  leaned  slightly  upon  him  as  they  ascended  the  stairs. 
Eustace's  room  was  the  first  they  reached,  and  they  turned 
into  that. 

Scott  was  very  pale,  but  there  was  no  lack  of  resolution 
about  him  as  he  closed  the  door  and  faced  the  elder 
man. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  Eustace  demanded. 

"Just  this."  Very  steadily  Scott  made  answer.  "I 
want  to  know  how  far  this  matter  has  gone  between  you  and 
Miss  Bathurst.  I  want  to  know — what  you  are  going  to 
do." 

"My  intentions,  eh?"  Eustace's  sneer  became  very  pro- 
nounced as  he  put  the  question.  He  pulled  forward  a 
chair  and  sat  down  with  an  arrogant  air  as  though  to  bring 
himself  thus  to  Scott's  level. 

Scott's  eyes  gleamed  again  momentarily  at  the  action, 
but  he  stood  like  a  rock.  "Yes,  your  intentions, "  he  said 
briefly. 

Sir  Eustace's  black  brows  went  up,  he  looked  him  up  and 


The  Lesson  235 

down.     "Can  you  give  me  any  reason  at  all  why  I  should 
hold  myself  answerable  to  you?"  he  asked. 

Scott's  hands  clenched  as  he  stood.  "I  can,"  he  said. 
"I  regard  Miss  Bathurst  as  very  peculiarly  our  charge — 
under  our  protection.  We  are  both  in  a  great  measure 
responsible  for  her,  though  possibly—  "  he  hesitated  slightly 
— "my  responsibility  is  greater  than  yours,  in  so  far  as  I  take 
it  more  seriously.  I  do  not  think  that  either  of  us  is  in  a 
position  to  make  love  to  her  under  existing  circumstances. 
But  that,  I  admit,  is  merely  a  matter  of  opinion.  Most 
emphatically  neither  of  us  has  the  right  to  trifle  with  her. 
I  want  to  know — and  I  must  know — are  you  trifling  with 
her,  as  you  have  trifled  with  Miss  de  Vigne  for  the  past 
fortnight?  Or  are  you  in  earnest?  Which?" 

He  spoke  sternly,  as  one  delivering  an  ultimatum.  His 
eyes,  steel-bright  and  unwavering,  were  fixed  upon  his 
brother's  face. 

Sir  Eustace  made  a  sharp  gesture,  as  of  one  who  flings 
off  some  stinging  insect.  "It  is  not  particularly  good  form 
on  your  part  to  bring  another  lady's  name  into  the  dis- 
cussion," he  said.  "At  least  you  have  no  responsibilities 
so  far  as  Miss  de  Vigne  is  concerned." 

"I  admit  that,"  Scott  answered  shortly.  "Moreover, 
she  is  fully  capable  of  taking  care  of  herself.  But  Miss 
Bathurst  is  not.  She  is  a  mere  child  in  many  ways,  but  she 
takes  things  hard.  If  you  are  merely  amusing  yourself 
at  her  expense — '  He  stopped. 

"Well?"  Sir  Eustace  threw  the  question  with  sudden 
anger.  His  great,  lounging  figure  stiffened.  A  blue  flame 
shot  up  in  his  eyes. 

Scott  stood  silent  for  a  moment  or  two;  then  with  a 
great  effort  he  unclenched  his  hands  and  came  forward. 
"I  am  not  going  to  believe  that  of  you  unless  you  tell  me 
it  is  so,"  he  said. 

Sir  Eustace  reached  out  an  unexpected  hand  without 


236  Greatheart 

rising,  and  took  him  by  the  shoulder.  "You  may  be  small 
of  stature,  Stumpy,"  he  said,  "but  you're  the  biggest  fool  I 
know.  You're  making  mountains  out  of  molehills,  and 
you'll  get  yourself  into  trouble  if  you're  not  careful. " 

Scott  looked  at  him.  "  Do  you  imagine  I'm  afraid  of  you, 
I  wonder? "  he  said,  a  faint  tremor  of  irony  in  his  quiet  voice. 

Sir  Eustace's  hold  tightened.  His  mouth  was  hard. 
' '  I  imagine  that  I  could  make  things  highly  unpleasant  for 
you  if  you  provoked  me  too  far,"  he  said.  "And  let  me 
warn  you,  you  have  gone  quite  far  enough  in  a  matter  in 
which  you  have  no  concern  whatever.  I  never  have  stood 
any  interference  from  yc5u  and  I  never  will.  Let  that  be 
understood — once  for  all!" 

He  met  Scott's  look  with  eyes  of  smouldering  wrath. 
There  was  more  than  warning  in  his  hold;  it  conveyed 
menace. 

Yet  Scott,  very  pale,  supremely  dignified,  made  no 
motion  to  retreat.  "You  have  not  answered  me  yet,"  he 
said.  "I  must  have  an  answer." 

Sir  Eustace's  brows  met  in  a  thick  and  threatening 
line.  "You  will  have  very  much  more  than  you  bargain 
for  if  you  persist,"  he  said. 

"Meaning  that  I  am  to  draw  my  own  conclusions?" 
Scott  asked,  unmoved. 

The  smouldering  fire  suddenly  blazed  into  flame.  He 
pulled  Scott  to  him  with  the  movement  of  a  giant,  and 
bent  him  irresistibly  downwards.  "I  will  show  you  what  I 
mean,"  he  said. 

Scott  made  a  swift,  instinctive  effort  to  free  himself,  but 
the  next  instant  he  was  passive.  Only  as  the  relentless 
hands  forced  him  lower  he  spoke,  his  voice  quick  and 
breathless. 

"You  can  hammer  me  to  your  heart's  content,  but 
you'll  get  nothing  out  of  it.  That  sort  of  thing  simply 
doesn't  count — with  me." 


The  Lesson  237 

Sir  Eustace  held  him  in  a  vice-like  grip.  "Are  you 
going  to  take  it  lying  down  then?"  he  questioned  grimly. 

"I'm  not  going  to  fight  you  certainly."  Scott's  voice 
had  a  faint  quiver  of  humour  in  it,  as  though  he  jested  at  his 
own  expense.  "Not — that  is — in  a  physical  sense.  If  you 
choose  to  resort  to  brute  force,  that's  your  affair.  And  I 
fancy  you'll  be  sorry  afterwards.  But  it  will  make  no  act- 
ual difference  to  me."  He  broke  off,  breathing  short  and 
hard,  like  a  man  who  struggles  against  odds  yet  with  no 
thought  of  yielding. 

Sir  Eustace  held  him  a  few  seconds  as  if  irresolute,  then 
abruptly  let  him  go.  "I  believe  you're  right,"  he  said. 
"You  wouldn't  care  a  damn.  But  you're  a  fool  to  bait  me 
all  the  same.  Now  clear  out,  and  leave  me  alone  for  the 
future!" 

"I  haven't  done  with  you  yet, "  Scott  said.  He  straight- 
ened himself,  and  returned  indomitably  to  the  attack.  "I 
asked  you  a  question,  and — so  far — you  haven't  answered 
it.  Are  you  ashamed  to  answer  it  ?" 

Sir  Eustace  got  up  with  a  movement  of  exasperation, 
but  very  oddly  his  anger  had  died  down.  "Oh,  confound 
you,  Stumpy !  You're  worse  than  a  swarm  of  mosquitoes ! ' ' 
he  said.  "I  dispute  your  right  to  ask  that  question.  It  is 
no  affair  of  yours." 

"I  maintain  that  it  is,"  Scott  said  quietly.  "It  matters 
to  me — perhaps  more  than  you  realize — whether  you  behave 
honourably  or  otherwise." 

"Honourably!"  His  brother  caught  him  up  sharply. 
"You're  on  dangerous  ground,  I  warn  you,"  he  said.  "I 
won't  stand  that  from  you  or  any  man." 

"I've  no  intention  of  insulting  you,"  Scott  answered. 
"But  I  must  know  the  truth.  Are  you  hoping  to  marry 
Miss  Bathurst,  or  are  you  not?" 

Sir  Eustace  drew  himself  up  with  a  haughty  gesture. 
"The  time  has  not  come  to  talk  of  that,"  he  said. 


238  Greatheart 

"Not  when  you  are  deliberately  making  love  to  her0" 
Scott's  voice  remained  quiet,  but  the  glitter  was  in  his  eyes 
again — a  quivering,  ominous  gleam. 

"Oh,  that!  My  dear  fellow,  you  are  disquieting  yourself 
in  vain.  She  knows  as  well  as  I  do  that  that  is  a  mere 
game . ' '  Eustace  spoke  scoffingly ,  looking  over  his  brother 's 
head,  ignoring  his  attitude.  "I  assure  you  she  is  not  so 
green  as  you  imagine, "  he  said.  "  It  has  been  nothing  but  a 
game  all  through." 

"Nothing  but  a  game!"  Scott  repeated  the  words  slowly 
as  if  incredulous.  "  Do  you  actually  mean  that? " 

Sir  Eustace  laughed  and  took  out  his  cigarettes.  "  What 
do  you  take  me  for,  you  old  duffer?  Think  I  should  commit 
myself  at  this  stage?  An  old  hand  like  me!  Not  likely!" 

Scott  stood  up  before  him,  white  to  the  lips.  "I  take 
you  for  an  infernal  blackguard,  if  you  want  to  know!"  he 
said,  speaking  with  great  distinctness.  "You  may  call 
yourself  a  man  of  honour.  I  call  you  a  scoundrel!" 

"What?"  Eustace  put  back  his  cigarette-case  with  a 
smile  that  was  oddly  like  a  snarl.  "It  looks  to  me  as  if 
you'll  have  to  have  that  lesson  after  all, "  he  said.  "What's 
the  matter  with  you  now-a-days?  Fallen  in  love  yourself? 
Is  that  it?" 

He  took  Scott  by  the  shoulders,  not  roughly,  but  with 
power. 

Scott's  eyes  met  his  like  a  sword  in  a  master-hand. 
" The  matter  is, "  he  said,  "that  this  precious  game  of  yours 
has  got  to  end.  If  you  are  not  man  enough  to  end  it — I 
will. " 

"Will  you  indeed?"  Eustace  shook  him  to  and  fro  as  he 
stood,  but  still  without  violence.  "And  how?" 

"I  shall  tell  her,"  Scott  spoke  without  the  smallest 
hesitation,  "the  exact  truth.  I  shall  tell  her — and  she  will 
believe  me — precisely  what  you  are." 

"Damn  you!"  said  Sir  Eustace. 


The  Lesson  239 

With  the  words  he  shifted  his  grasp,  took  Scott  by  the 
collar,  and  swung  him  round. 

"Then  you  may  also  tell  her, "  he  said,  his  voice  low  and 
furious,  "that  you  have  had  the  kicking  that  a  little  yap- 
ping cur  like  you  deserves." 

He  kicked  him  with  the  words,  kicked  him  thrice,  and 
flung  him  brutally  aside. 

Scott  went  down,  grabbing  vainly  at  the  bed  to  save 
himself.  His  face  was  deathly  as  he  turned  it,  but  he  said 
nothing.  He  had  said  his  say. 

Sir  Eustace  was  white  also,  white  and  terrible,  with  eyes 
of  flame.  He  stood  a  moment,  glaring  down  at  him.  Then, 
as  though  he  could  not  trust  himself,  wheeled  and  strode 
to  the  door. 

"And  when  you've  done,"  he  said,  "you  can  come  to  me 
for  another,  you  beastly  little  cad!" 

He  went,  leaving  the  door  wide  behind  him.  His  feet 
resounded  along  the  passage  and  died  away.  The  distant 
waltz-music  came  softly  in.  And  Scott  pulled  himself 
painfully  up  and  sat  on  the  end  of  the  bed,  panting  heavily. 

Minutes  passed  ere  he  moved.  Then  at  last  very  slowly 
he  got  up.  He  had  recovered  his  breath.  His  mouth  was 
firm,  his  eyes  resolute  and  indomitable,  his  whole  bearing 
composed,  as  with  that  dignity  that  Dinah  had  so  often 
remarked  in  him  he  limped  to  the  door  and  passed  out, 
closing  it  quietly  behind  him. 

The  dance-music  was  still  floating  through  the  passages 
with  a  mocking  allurement.  The  tramp  of  feet  and  laugh- 
ter of  many  voices  rose  with  it.  A  flicker  of  irony  passed 
over  his  drawn  face.  He  straightened  his  collar  with 
absolute  steadiness,  and  moved  away  in  the  direction  of  his 
own  room. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  CAPTIVE 

ISABEL  uttered  no  reproaches  to  her  charge  as,  quivering 
with  shame,  she  returned  from  her  escapade.  She 
exchanged  no  more  than  a  low  "Good  night!"  with  Scott, 
and  then  turned  back  into  the  room  with  Dinah.  But  as  the 
latter  stood  before  her,  crest-fallen  and  humiliated,  expect- 
ing a  reprimand,  she  only  laid  very  gentle  hands  upon  her 
and  began  to  unfasten  her  dress. 

"I  wasn't  spying  upon  you,  dear  child,"  she  said.  "I 
only  looked  in  to  see  if  you  would  care  for  a  cup  of  milk  last 
thing." 

That  broke  Dinah  utterly  and  overwhelmingly.  In  her 
contrition,  she  cast  herself  literally  at  Isabel's  feet.  "Oh, 
what  a  beast  I  am!  What  a  beast!"  she  sobbed.  "Will 
you  ever  forgive  me?  I  shall  never  forgive  myself!" 

Isabel  was  very  tender  with  her,  checking  her  wild  out- 
burst with  loving  words.  She  asked  no  question  as  to  what 
had  been  happening,  for  which  forbearance  Dinah's  grati- 
tude was  great  even  though  it  served  to  intensify  her 
remorse.  With  all  a  mother's  loving  care  she  soothed  her, 
assuring  her  of  complete  forgiveness  and  understanding. 

"I  did  wild  things  in  my  own  girlhood,"  she  said.  "I 
know  what  it  means,  dear,  when  temptation  comes." 

And  so  at  last  she  calmed  her  agitation,  and  helped  her 
to  bed,  waiting  upon  her  with  the  utmost  gentleness,  saying 
no  word  of  blame  or  even  of  admonition. 

240 


The  Captive  241 

Not  till  she  had  gone,  did  it  dawn  upon  Dinah  that  this 
task  had  probably  been  left  to  Scott,  and  with  the  thought  a 
great  dread  of  the  morrow  came  upon  her.  Though  he  had 
betrayed  no  hint  of  displeasure,  she  felt  convinced  that  she 
had  incurred  it;  and  all  her  new-born  shyness  in  his  pres- 
ence, returned  upon  her  a  thousandfold.  She  did  not  know 
how  she  would  face  him  when  the  morning  came. 

He  would  not  be  angry  she  knew.  He  would  not  scold 
her  like  Colonel  de  Vigne.  But  yet  she  shrank  from  the 
thought  of  his  disappointment  in  her  as  she  had  never 
before  shrunk  from  the  Colonel's  rebuke.  She  was  sure 
that  she  had  forfeited  his  good  opinion  for  ever,  and  many 
and  bitter  were  the  tears  that  she  shed  over  her  loss. 

Her  thoughts  of  Eustace  were  of  too  confused  a  nature 
to  be  put  into  coherent  form.  The  moment  they  turned  in 
his  direction  her  brain  became  a  flashing  whirl  in  which 
doubts,  fears,  and  terrible  ectasies  ran  wild  riot.  She  lay 
and  trembled  at  the  memory  of  his  strength,  exulting  almost 
in  the  same  moment  that  he  had  stooped  with  such  mastery 
to  possess  her.  His  magnificence  dazzled  her,  deprived  her  of 
all  powers  of  rational  judgment.  She  only  realized  that 
she — and  she  alone — had  been  singled  out  of  the  crowd  for 
that  fiery  worship ;  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  she  had  been 
created  for  that  one  splendid  purpose. 

But  always  the  memory  of  Scott  shot  her  triumph 
through  with  a  regret  so  poignant  as  to  deprive  it  of  all 
lasting  rapture.  She  had  hurt  him,  she  had  disappointed 
him;  she  did  not  know  how  she  would  ever  look  him  in  the 
eyes  again. 

Her  sleep  throughout  that  last  night  was  broken  and 
unrefreshing,  and  ever  the  haunting  strains  of  Simple  Aveu 
pulsed  through  her  brain  like  a  low  voice  calling  her 
perpetually,  refusing  to  be  stilled.  Only  one  night  more 
and  she  would  be  back  in  her  home;  this  glittering,  Alpine 
dream  would  be  over,  never  to  return.  And  again  she 

16 


242  Greatheart 

turned  on  her  pillow  and  wept.  It  was  so  hard,  so  hard,  to 
go  back. 

In  the  morning  she  arose  white-faced  and  weary,  with 
dark  shadows  under  her  eyes,  and  a  head  that  throbbed 
tormentingly.  She  breakfasted  with  Isabel  in  the  latter's 
room,  and  was  again  deeply  grateful  to  her  friend  for  for- 
bearing to  comment  upon  her  subdued  manner.  She  could 
not  make  any  pretence  at  cheerfulness  that  day,  being  in 
fact  still  so  near  to  tears  that  she  could  scarcely  keep  from 
breaking  down. 

"Don't  wait  for  me,  dear!"  Isabel  said  gently  at  length. 
"I  see  you  are  not  hungry.  We  are  taking  some  provisions 
with  us;  perhaps  you  will  feel  more  like  eating  presently. " 

Dinah  escaped  very  thankfully  and  returned  to  her  own 
room. 

Here  she  remained  for  awhile  till  more  sure  of  herself; 
then  Biddy  came  in  to  finish  her  packing  and  she  slipped 
away  to  avoid  the  old  woman's  shrewd  observation.  She 
feared  to  go  downstairs  lest  she  should  meet  Scott;  but 
presently,  as  she  hovered  in  the  passage,  she  heard  his  halt- 
ing tread  in  the  main  corridor. 

He  was  evidently  on  his  way  to  his  sister's  room,  and 
seizing  her  opportunity,  she  ran  like  a  hare  in  the  opposite 
direction  and  managed  to  slip  downstairs  without  adventure. 

She  was  not  to  escape  unnoticed,  however.  The  first 
person  she  encountered  in  the  vestibule  came  forward 
instantly  at  sight  of  her  with  the  promptitude  of  one  who 
has  been  lying  in  wait. 

She  recoiled  with  a  gasp,  but  she  could  not  run  away. 
She  was  caught  as  surely  as  she  had  been  the  night  before. 

"Hullo!"  smiled  Sir  Eustace,  with  extended  hand. 
" Going  out  for  a  last  look  round?  May  I  come  too? " 

She  felt  the  dominance  of  his  grip.  It  was  coolly, 
imperially  possessive.  To  answer  his  request  seemed 
superfluous,  even  bordering  upon  presumption.  It  was 


The  Captive  243 

obvious  that  he  had  every  intention  of  accompanying  her. 

She  gave  a  confused  murmur  of  assent,  and  they  passed 
through  the  vestibule  side  by  side.  She  was  conscious  of 
curious  glances  from  several  strangers  who  were  standing 
about,  and  Eustace  exchanged  a  few  words  with  a  species 
of  regal  condescension  here  and  there  as  they  went.  And 
then  they  were  out  in  the  pure  sunlight  of  the  mountains, 
alone  for  the  last  time  in  their  paradise  of  snow. 

Almost  instinctively  Dinah  turned  up  the  winding  track. 
They  had  half  an  hour  before  them,  and  she  felt  she  could 
not  bear  to  stand  still.  He  strolled  beside  her,  idly  smoking, 
not  troubling  to  make  conversation,  now  as  ever  sublimely 
at  his  ease. 

The  snow  sparkled  around  them  like  a  thousand  gems. 
Dinah's  eyes  were  burning  and  smarting  with  the  bright- 
ness. And  still  that  tender  waltz-music  ran  lilting  through 
her  brain,  drifting  as  it  were  through  the  mist  of  her  unshed 
tears. 

Suddenly  he  spoke.  They  were  nearing  the  pine-wood 
and  quite  alone.  "Is  there  anything  the  matter?" 

She  choked  down  a  great  lump  in  her  throat  before 
she  could  speak  in  answer.  "No,"  she  murmured  then. 
"I — I  am  just — rather  low  about  leaving;  that's  all." 

"Quite  all?"  he  said. 

His  tone  was  so  casual,  so  normal,  that  it  seemed  impos- 
sible now  to  think  of  last  night's  happening  save  as  an 
extravagant  dream.  She  almost  felt  for  the  moment  as  if 
she  had  imagined  it  all.  And  then  he  spoke  again,  and  she 
caught  a  subtle  note  of  tenderness  in  his  voice  that  brought 
it  all  back  upon  her  in  an  overwhelming  rush. 

"That's  really  all,  is  it?  You're  not  unhappy  about 
anything  else?  Scott  hasn't  been  bullying  you?" 

She  gasped  at  the  question.  "Oh  no!  Oh  no!  He 
wouldn't!  He  couldn't!  I — haven't  even  seen  him  to- 
day." 


244  Greatheart 

He  received  the  information  in  silence;  but  in  a  moment 
or  two  he  tossed  away  his  cigarette  with  the  air  of  a  man 
having  come  to  an  abrupt  resolution. 

"And  so  you're  fretting  about  going  home?"  he  said. 

She  nodded  mutely.  The  matter  would  not  bear  dis- 
cussion. 

"  Poor  little  Daphne ! "  he  said.  "  It's  been  a  good  game, 
hasn't  it?" 

She  nodded  again.  "Just  like  the  dreams  that  never 
come  true,"  she  managed  to  say. 

"  Would  you  like  it  to  come  true? "  he  asked  her  unexpect- 
edly. 

She  glanced  up  at  him  with  a  woeful  little  smile.  "It's 
no  good  thinking  of  that,  is  it?"  she  said. 

"I  have  an  idea  we  could  make  it  come  true  between 
us,"  he  said. 

She  shook  her  head.  That  brief  glimpse  of  his  intent 
eyes  had  sent  a  sudden  and  overwhelming  wave  of  shyness 
through  her.  She  remembered  again  the  fiery  holding  of 
his  arms,  and  was  afraid. 

He  paused  in  his  walk  and  turned  aside  to  the  railing 
that  bounded  the  side  of  the  track  above  the  steep,  pine- 
covered  descent.  "Wish  hard  enough,"  he  said,  "and  all 
dreams  come  true!" 

Dinah  went  with  him  as  if  compelled.  She  leaned  against 
the  railing,  glad  of  the  support,  while  he  sat  down  upon  it. 
His  attitude  was  supremely  easy  and  self-possessed. 

"Do  you  know,  Daphne,"  he  said,  "I've  taken  a  fancy 
to  that  particular  dream  myself?  Now  I've  caught  you,  I 
don't  see  myself  letting  you  go  again." 

Her  heart  throbbed  at  his  words.  She  bent  her  head, 
fixing  her  eyes  upon  the  rough  wood  upon  which  she  leaned. 
"But  it's  no  good,  is  it?"  she  said,  almost  below  her  breath. 
"I've  just  got  to  go." 

He  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder,  and  she  was  conscious 


The  Captive  245 

afresh  of  the  electricity  of  his  touch.  She  shrank  a  little — 
a  very  little;  for  she  was  frightened,  albeit  curiously  aware 
of  a  magnetism  that  drew  her  irresistibly. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  you've  got  to  go,"  he  said.  "But — 
there's  nothing  to  prevent  me  following  you,  is  there?" 

She  quivered  from  head  to  foot.  That  hand  upon  her 
shoulder  sent  such  a  tumult  of  emotions  through  her  that 
she  could  not  collect  her  thoughts  in  any  coherent  order. 
"I — I  don't  know,"  she  whispered,  bending  her  head  still 
lower.  "They — I  don't  know  what  they  would  say  at 
home." 

"Your  people?"  His  hand  was  drawing  her  now  with 
an  insistent  pressure  that  would  not  be  denied.  "They'd 
probably  dance  on  their  heads  with  delight,"  he  said,  his 
tone  one  of  slightly  supercilious  humour.  "I  assure  you  I 
am  considered  something  of  a  catch  by  a  good  many  anxious 
mammas." 

She  started  at  that,  started  and  straightened  herself, 
lifting  shy  eyes  to  his.  "Oh,  but  we've  only  been — play- 
ing," she  said  rather  uncertainly.  "Just — just  pretending 
to  flirt,  that's  all." 

He  laughed,  bending  his  handsome,  imperious  face  to 
hers.  "It's  been  a  fairly  solid  pretence,  hasn't  it?"  he 
said.  "But  I'm  proposing  something  slightly  different 
now.  I'm  offering  you  my  hand — as  well  as  my  heart." 

Dinah  was  trembling  all  over.  She  gasped  for  breath, 
drawing  back  slightly  from  the  nearness  of  his  lips.  "Do 
you  mean — you'd  like — to  marry  me?"  she  whispered 
tremulously,  and  hid  her  face  on  the  instant;  for  the  bald 
words  sounded  preposterous. 

He  laughed  again,  softly,  half -mockingly,  and  drew  her 
into  his  arms.  "Whatever  made  you  think  of  that,  my  elf 
of  the  mountains?  I'll  vow  it  came  into  your  head  first. 
Ah,  you  needn't  hide  your  eyes  from  me.  I  know  you're 
mine — all  mine.  I've  known  it  from  the  first — ever  since 


246  Greatheart 

you  began  to  run  away.  But  I've  caught  you  now.  Haven't 
I?  Haven't  I?" 

She  clung  to  him  desperately.  It  seemed  the  only  way; 
for  she  was  for  the  moment  swept  off  her  feet,  terribly 
afraid  of  arousing  that  storm  of  passion  which  had  so  over- 
whelmed her  the  night  before.  Instinct  warned  her  what 
to  expect  if  she  attempted  to  withdraw  herself.  Moreover, 
the  tumult  of  her  feeling  was  such  that  she  did  not  want  to 
do  so.  She  wanted  only  to  hide  her  head  for  a  space,  and 
be  still. 

He  pressed  her  close,  still  laughing  at  her  shyness.  ' '  What 
a  good  thing  I'm  not  shy!"  he  said.  "If  I  were,  to-day 
would  be  the  end  of  everything  instead  of  the  beginning. 
Can't  you  bring  yourself  to  look  at  your  new  possession? 
Did  you  think  you  could  laugh  and  run  away  for  all  time?" 

Then,  as  in  muffled  accents  she  besought  him  to  be 
patient  with  her,  he  softened  magically  and  for  the  first 
time  spoke  of  love. 

"Don't  you  know  you  have  wrenched  the  very  heart  out 
of  me,  you  little  brown  witch?  I  loved  you  from  the  very 
first  moment  of  our  dance  together.  You've  been  too  much 
for  me  all  through.  I  had  to  have  you.  I  simply  had  to 
have  you." 

She  trembled  afresh  at  his  words,  but  she  clung  closer. 
If  the  fear  deepened,  so  also  did  the  fascination.  She  tried 
to  picture  him  as  hers — hers,  and  failed.  He  was  so  fine, 
so  splendid,  so  much  too  big  for  her. 

He  went  on,  dropping  his  voice  lower,  his  breath  warm 
upon  her  neck.  "Are  you  going  to  take  all  and  give — 
nothing,  Daphne?  Did  they  make  you  without  a  heart,  I 
wonder?  Like  a  robin  that  mates  afresh  a  dozen  times  in  a 
season?  Haven't  you  anything  to  give  me,  little  sweet- 
heart ?  Are  you  going  to  keep  me  waiting  for  a  long,  long 
time,  and  then  send  me  empty  away?" 

That  moved  her.     That  he  should  stoop  to  plead  with 


The  Captive  247 

her  seemed  so  amazing,  almost  a  fabulous  state  of 
affairs. 

With  a  little  sob,  she  lifted  her  face  at  last.  "Oh, 
Apollo!"  she  said  brokenly.  "Apollo  the  magnificent!  I 
am  all  yours — all  yours!  But  don't — don't  take  too  much 
— at  a  time!" 

The  plea  must  have  touched  him,  accompanied  as  it  was 
by  that  full  surrender.  He  held  her  a  moment,  looking 
down  into  her  eyes  with  the  fiery  possessiveness  subdued  to 
a  half -veiled  tenderness  in  his  own. 

Then,  very  gently,  even  with  reverence,  he  bent  his  face 
to  hers.  "Give  me — just  what  you  can  spare,  then,  little 
sweetheart!"  he  said.  "I  can  always  come  again  for 
more  now." 

She  slipped  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  shyly,  child- 
ishly, she  kissed  the  lips  that  had  devoured  her  own  so 
mercilessly  the  night  before. 

"Yes — yes,  I  will  always  give  you  more!"  she  said 
tremulously. 

He  took  her  face  between  his  hands  and  kissed  her  in 
return,  not  violently,  but  with  confidence.  "That  seals 
you  for  my  very  own,"  he  said.  "You  will  never  run 
away  from  me  again  ? ' ' 

But  she  would  not  promise  that.  The  memory  of  the 
previous  night  still  scorched  her  intolerably  whenever  her 
thoughts  turned  that  way. 

"I  shan't  want  to  run  away  if — if  you  stay  as  you  are 
now,"  she  told  him  confusedly. 

He  laughed  in  his  easy  way.  "  Oh,  Daphne,  I  shall  have  a 
lot  to  teach  you  when  we  are  married.  How  soon  do  you 
think  you  can  be  ready?" 

She  started  in  his  hold  at  the  question,  and  then  quickly 
gave  herself  fully  back  to  him  again.  "I  don't  know  a  bit. 
You'll  have  to  ask  mother.  P'raps — she  may  not  allow  it 
at  all." 


248  Greatheart 

"Ho!  Won't  she?"  said  Sir  Eustace.  "I  think  I  know 
better.  What  about  that  trip  on  the  yacht  in  July?  Can 
you  be  ready  in  time  for  that?" 

"Oh,  I  expect  I  could  be  ready  sooner  than  that,"  said 
Dinah  naively. 

"You  could?"  He  smiled  upon  her.  "Well,  next  week 
then!  What  do  you  say  to  next  week?" 

But  she  shrank  again  at  that.  "Oh  no!  Not  possibly! 
Not  possibly!  You — you're  laughing!"  She  looked  at 
him  accusingly. 

He  caught  her  to  him.  "You  baby!  You  innocent! 
Yes,  I'm  going  to  kiss  you.  Where  will  you  have  it?  Just 
anywhere?" 

He  held  her  and  kissed  her,  still  laughing,  yet  with  a 
heat  that  made  her  flinch  involuntarily;  kissed  the  pointed 
chin  and  quivering  lips,  the  swift-shut  eyes  and  soft  cheeks, 
the  little,  trembling  dimple  that  came  and  went. 

"Yes,  you  are  mine — all  mine,"  he  said.  "Remember,  I 
have  a  right  to  you  now  that  no  one  else  has.  Not  all  the 
mammas  in  the  world  could  come  between  us  now. " 

She  laughed,  half -exultantly,  half -dubiously,  peeping 
at  him  through  her  lowered  lashes.  "I  wonder  if  you'll 
still  say  that  when — when  you've  seen — my  mother,"  she 
murmured. 

He  kissed  her  again,  kissed  anew  the  dimples  that  showed 
and  vanished  so  alluringly.  "You  will  see  presently,  my 
Daphne, "  he  said.  "But  I'm  going  to  have  you,  you  know. 
That's  quite  understood,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,"  whispered  Dinah,  with  docility. 

"No  more  running  away,"  he  insisted.  "That's  past 
and  done  with." 

She  gave  him  a  fleeting  smile.  "I  couldn't  if — if  I 
wanted  to. " 

"I'm  glad  you  realize'  that,"  he  said. 

She  clung  to  him  suddenly  with  a  little  movement  that 


The  Captive  249 

was  almost  convulsive.  "Oh,  are  you  sure — quite  sure — 
that  you  wouldn't  rather  marry  Rose  de  Vigne?" 

He  uttered  his  careless  laugh.  "  My  dear  child,  there  are 
plenty  of  Roses  in  the  world.  There  is  only  one — Daphne 
—Daphne,  the  fleet  of  foot — Daphne,  the  enchantress!" 

She  clung  to  him  a  little  faster.  "And  there  is  only  one 
Apollo, "  she  murmured.  "Apollo  the  magnificent ! " 

"We  seem  to  be  quite  a  unique  couple, "  laughed  Eustace, 
with  his  lips  upon  her  hair. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE    SECOND    SUMMONS 

WHEN  they  went  down  the  hill  again  to  the  hotel, 
Dinah  felt  as  if  she  were  treading  on  air.  The 
whole  world  had  magically  changed  for  her.  Fears  still 
lurked  in  the  background,  such  fears  as  she  did  not  dare  to 
turn  and  contemplate ;  but  she  herself  had  stepped  into  such 
a  blaze  of  sunshine  that  she  felt  literally  bathed  from  head 
to  foot  in  the  glow. 

Her  dread  of  returning  to  the  old  home-life  had  dwindled 
to  a  mere  shadow.  Sir  Eustace's  absolute  confidence  on  the 
subject  of  his  desirability  as  a  husband  had  accomplished 
this.  There  woiild  be  paeans  of  rejoicing,  he  told  her,  and 
she  had  actually  begun  to  think  that  he  spoke  the  truth. 
She  was  quite  convinced  that  her  mother  would  be  pleased. 
It  was  Cinderella  and  the  prince  indeed.  Who  could  be 
otherwise? 

Her  escapade  of  the  night  before  had  also  shrunk  to  a 
matter  of  small  importance.  Eustace  in  his  grand,  easy 
way  had  justified  her,  and  she  was  no  longer  tormented  by 
the  thought  of  the  mute  reproach  she  would  encounter  in 
Scott's  eyes.  She  was  triumphantly  vindicated,  and  no  one 
would  dream  of  reproaching  her  now.  Isabel  too — surely 
Isabel  would  be  glad,  would  welcome  her  as  a  sister,  though 
the  realization  of  this  nearness  of  relationship  made  her 
blush  in  sheer  horror  at  her  presumption. 

She  to  be  Lady  Studley!  She — little,  insignificant, 

250 


The  Second  Summons  251 

moneyless  Dinah!  The  thought  of  Rose's  soft  patronage 
flashed  through  her  brain,  and  she  chuckled  aloud.  Poor 
dear  Rose,  waiting  for  him  at  the  Court,  expecting  every 
day  to  hear  of  his  promised  advent!  What  a  shock  for 
them  all!  Why,  she  would  rank  with  the  County  now! 
Even  Lady  Grace  would  scarcely  be  in  a  position  to  patron- 
ize her!  Again,  quite  involuntarily,  she  chuckled. 

"What's  the  joke?"  demanded  Sir  Eustace. 

She  blushed  very  deeply,  realizing  that  she  had  allowed 
her  thoughts  to  run  away  with  her. 

"There  isn't  a  joke  realty,"  she  told  him.  "It  wasn't 
important  anyhow.  I  was  only  thinking  how — how 
surprised  the  de  Vignes  would  be." 

He  frowned  momentarily;  then  he  laughed.  "Proud  of 
your  conquest,  eh?"  he  asked. 

She  blushed  still  more  deeply.  "It's  easy  to  laugh 
now,  but  I  shall  never  dare  to  face  them,"  she  murmured. 

He  took  her  hand  as  they  walked,  linking  his  fingers  in 
hers  with  a  careless  air  of  possession.  "When  you  are 
Lady  Studley, "  he  said,  "I  shall  not  allow  you  to  knock 
under  to  anyone — except  your  husband." 

She  gave  a  faint  laugh.  "I — shall  have  to  learn  to 
swagger,"  she  said.  "But  I'm  afraid  I  shall  never  do  it 
as  well  as  you  do. " 

"What?  Swagger?"  He  frowned  again.  "How  dare 
you  accuse  me  of  that?" 

"Oh,  I  didn't!  I  don't!"  Hastily  she  sought  to  avert 
his  displeasure.  "No,  no!  I  only  meant  that  you  were 
born  to  it.  I'm  not.  I — I'm  very  ordinary;  not  nearly 
good  enough  for  you." 

His  frown  melted  again.  "You  are — Daphne,"  he  said. 
"Ah!  Here  is  Scott,  coming  to  look  for  us!  Who  is  going 
to  break  the  news  to  him?" 

She  made  a  small,  ineffectual  attempt  to  release  her  hand. 
Then,  under  her  breath,  "He — saw  you  kiss  me  last  night, " 


252  Greatheart 

she  whispered.  "Don't  you  think  he  may  have  guessed 
already?" 

A  very  cynical  look  came  into  Eustace's  face.  "I 
wonder,"  he  said  briefly. 

They  went  on  side  by  side  down  the  white,  shining  track ; 
but  Dinah  was  no  longer  treading  on  air.  She  could  see  the 
slight,  insignificant  figure  that  awaited  them  close  to  the 
hotel-entrance,  and  her  heart  felt  oddly  weighted  within 
her.  It  was  not  the  memory  of  the  night  before  that 
oppressed  her.  That  episode  had  faded  almost  into 
nothingness.  But  the  ordeal  of  facing  him,  of  telling  him 
of  the  wonderful  thing  that  had  just  happened  to  her, 
seemed  suddenly  more  than  she  could  bear.  Something 
within  her  seemed  to  cry  out  against  it.  She  had  a  curious 
feeling  of  looking  out  at  him  across  great  billows  of  seething 
uncertainty  that  rolled  ever  higher  and  higher  between 
them,  threatening  to  separate  them  for  all  time. 

Yet  when  she  neared  him,  the  tumult  of  feeling  sank  again 
as  the  quietness  of  his  presence  reached  her.  Out  of  the 
tempest  she  found  herself  drifting  into  a  safe  harbour  of  still 
waters. 

He  moved  to  meet  them,  and  she  heard  his  voice  greet 
her  as  he  raised  his  cap.  "So  you  have  been  for  your  fare- 
well stroll!" 

She  did  not  answer  in  words,  only  she  freed  her  hand 
from  Eustace  with  a  resolute  little  tug  and  gave  it  to 
him. 

Eustace  spoke,  a  species  of  half-veiled  insolence  in  his 
tone.  "Like  the  psalmist  she  went  forth  weeping  and  has 
returned  bearing  her  sheaf  with  her — in  the  form  of  a  fairly 
substantial  fiance. " 

Dinah  ventured  to  cast  a  lightning-glance  at  Scott  to 
see  how  he  took  the  information  and  was  conscious  of  an 
instant's  shock.  He  looked  so  grey,  so  ill,  like  a  man  who 
had  received  a  deadly  wound. 


The  Second  Summons  253 

But  the  impression  passed  in  a  flash  as  she  felt  his  hand 
close  upon  hers. 

"My  dear,"  he  said  simply,  "I'm  awfully  pleased." 

The  warm  grasp  did  her  good.  It  brought  her  swiftly 
back  to  a  normal  state  of  mind.  She  drew  a  hard  breath 
and  met  his  eyes,  reassuring  herself  in  a  moment  with  the 
conviction  that  after  all  he  looked  quite  as  usual.  Some- 
how her  imagination  had  tricked  her.  His  kindly  smile 
seemed  to  make  everything  right. 

"Oh,  it  is  kind  of  you  not  to  mind,"  she  said  impul- 
sively. 

Whereat  Sir  Eustace  laughed.  "He  is  rather  magnani- 
mous, isn't  he?  Well,  come  along  and  tell  Isabel!" 

Scott's  eyes  came  swiftly  to  him.  He  released  Dinah, 
and  offered  his  hand  to  his  brother.  ' '  Let  me  congratulate 
you,  old  chap ! "  he  said,  his  voice  rather  low.  "  I  hope  you 
will  both  have — all  happiness. " 

"Thanks!"  said  Eustace.  He  took  the  hand,  looking  at 
the  younger  man  with  keen,  hawk-eyes.  "We  mean  to 
make  a  bid  for  it  anyway.  Dinah  is  lucky  in  one  thing  at 
least.  She  will  have  an  ideal  brother-in-law." 

The  words  were  carelessly  spoken,  but  they  were  not 
without  meaning.  Scott  flushed  slightly;  even  while  for  an 
instant  he  smiled.  "I  shall  do  my  best  in  that  capacity, " 
he  said.  "But  before  you  go  in,  I  want  you  to  wait  a 
moment.  Isabel  has  had  a  slight  fainting  attack.  We 
mustn't  take  her  by  surprise. " 

"A  fainting  attack!"  Sharply  Eustace  echoed  the 
words.  "How  did  it  happen?"  he  demanded. 

Scott  raised  his  shoulders.  "We  were  talking  together. 
I  can't  tell  you  exactly  what  caused  it.  It  came  rather 
suddenly.  Biddy  and  I  brought  her  round  almost  immedi- 
ately, and  she  declares  that  she  will  make  the  journey. 
She  did  not  wish  me  to  tell  you  of  it,  but  I  thought  it 
better. " 


254  Greatheart 

"Of  course. "  Sir  Eustace's  voice  was  short  and  stern; 
his  face  wore  a  heavy  frown.  "But  something  must  have 
caused  it.  What  were  you  talking  about?" 

Scott  hesitated  for  a  second.  "I  can't  tell  you  that,  old 
fellow,  "  he  said  then. 

Eustace  uttered  a  brief  laugh.  "Too  personal,  eh? 
Well,  how  did  it  happen?  Did  she  suddenly  lose  conscious- 
ness?" 

"She  suddenly  gasped,  and  said  her  heart  had  stopped. 
She  fell  across  the  table.  I  called  to  Biddy,  and  we  lifted 
her  and  gave  her  brandy.  That  brought  her  to  very  quickly. 
I  left  her  lying  down  in  her  room.  But  she  says  she  feels 
much  better,  and  she  is  very  set  upon  leaving  the  arrange- 
ments for  the  journey  unaltered. " 

Scott  spoke  rather  wearily.  Dinah's  heart  went  out  to 
him  in  swift  sympathy  which  she  did  not  know  how  to 
express. 

"May  I — could  I — go  to  her?"  she  suggested,  after  a 
moment  timidly. 

Scott  turned  to  her  instantly.  "Please  do!  I  know  she 
would  like  to  see  you.  We  ought  to  be  starting  in  another 
quarter  of  an  hour.  The  sleigh  will  be  here  directly. " 

"May  I  do  as  I  like  about — about  telling  her?"  Dinah 
asked,  pausing. 

Scott's  eyes  shone  with  a  very  kindly  gleam.  "Of 
course,  I  know  you  will  not  startle  her.  You  always  do  her 
good." 

The  words  followed  her  as  she  turned  away.  How  good 
he  was  to  her!  How  full  of  understanding  and  human 
sympathy!  Her  heart  throbbed  with  a  warmth  that  filled 
her  with  an  odd  desire  to  weep.  She  wished  that  Eustace 
did  not  treat  him  quite  so  arrogantly. 

And  then,  looking  back,  she  reproached  herself  for  the 
thought ;  for  Eustace  had  linked  a  hand  in  his  arm,  and  she 
saw  that  they  were  walking  together  in  complete  accord. 


The  Second  Summons  255 

"But  I  will  never — no,  never — call  him  Stumpy!"  she 
said  to  herself,  as  she  passed  into  the  hotel. 

She  went  up  the  stairs  rapidly,  and  hastened  to  Isabel's 
room.  That  look  she  had  caught  in  Scott's  face — that 
stricken  look — had  doubtless  been  brought  there  by  his 
sudden  anxiety  for  his  sister.  That  would  fully  account  for 
it,  she  was  sure. 

On  the  threshold  of  Isabel's  room  an  overwhelming 
nervousness  assailed  her.  How  was  she  going  to  tell  her 
of  the  wonderful  event  that  had  taken  place  in  the  last  half- 
hour?  On  the  other  hand,  how  could  she  possibly  suppress 
so  tremendous  a  matter?  And  again,  the  disquieting 
question  arose;  could  she  be  ill — really  ill?  Scott  had 
looked  so  troubled — so  unutterably  sad. 

With  an  effort  she  summoned  her  courage,  and  softly 
knocked. 

Instantly  a  low  voice  answered  her,  bidding  her  enter. 
She  opened  the  door  and  went  in,  feeling  as  though  she  were 
treading  sacred  ground. 

But  Isabel's  voice  spoke  again  instantly,  greeting  her;  and 
in  a  moment  all  her  doubts,  all  her  forebodings,  were  gone. 

"Come  in,  little  sweetheart!"  Isabel  said. 

And  she  advanced  with  quickened  steps  to  find  Isabel 
lying  propped  on  the  sofa,  looking  at  her,  smiling  up  at  her, 
with  such  a  glory  on  her  wasted  face  as  made  it  "as  it  had 
been  the  face  of  an  angel. "  . 

In  an  instant  Dinah  was  on  her  knees  beside  her,  with 
loving  arms  clasping  her  close.  "Oh,  darling,  I've  only 
just  heard.  Are  you  better?  Are  you  better?"  she  said 
yearningly. 

Isabel  held  her,  and  fondly  kissed  the  upturned  lips. 
"Why,  I  believe  Scott  has  been  frightening  you,"  she  said. 
"Silly  fellow!  Yes,  dear.  I  am  well — quite  well." 

"You  are  sure?"  Dinah  insisted.  "You  are  really  not 
ill?" 


256  Greatheart 

Isabel's  smile  had  in  it — had  she  but  known  it — a  gleam 
of  the  Divine.  "  My  dearest,  all  is  well  with  me, "  she  said. 
"  I  lay  down  for  a  little  to  please  Scott.  But  I  am  going  to 
get  up  now.  Where  have  you  been  since  dejeuner  ?  I 
missed  you." 

Dinah  clung  closer,  hiding  her  face. 

Instantly  Isabel's  arms  tightened.  The  passionate 
tenderness  of  them  thrilled  her  through  and  through. 
"Why,  child,  what  has  happened?"  she  whispered.  "Tell 
me!  Tell  me!" 

But  Dinah  only  hid  her  face  a  little  deeper.  "I  don't 
know  how,"  she  murmured. 

There  fell  a  silence.  Then,  under  her  breath,  Isabel 
spoke.  "My  darling,  whisper — just  whisper!  Who — is 
it?" 

And  very,  very  faintly,  at  last  Dinah  made  answer.  "  It 
— it  is — Sir  Eustace." 

There  fell  another  silence,  longer,  deeper,  than  the 
first.  Then  Isabel  uttered  a  short,  hard  sigh,  and,  stooping, 
kissed  the  bowed,  curly  head.  "God  bless  and  keep  you 
always,  dearest!"  she  said. 

Something  in  the  words — or  was  it  the  tone? — pierced 
Dinah.  She  turned  her  face  slightly  upwards.  "I — I  was 
afraid  you  wouldn't  be  pleased,"  she  faltered.  "Do — do 
forgive  me — if  you  can!" 

"Forgive  you!"  All  the  wealth  of  Isabel's  love  was 
in  the  words.  "Why,  darling,  I  have  been  wanting  you  for 
my  own  little  sister  ever  since  I  first  saw  you." 

"Oh,  have  you?"  Eagerly  Dinah  lifted  her  head.  Her 
eyes  were  shining,  her  cheeks  very  flushed.  "Then  you  are 
pleased?"  she  said  earnestly.  "You  really  are  pleased?" 

Isabel  smiled  at  her  very  sadly,  very  fondly.  "My  dar- 
ling, if  you  are  happy,  I  am  more  than  pleased,"  she  said. 

Yet  Dinah  was  puzzled,  not  wholly  satisfied.  She  re- 
ceived Isabel's  kiss  with  a  certain  wistfulness.  "I  feel — 


The  Second  Summons  257 

somehow — as  if  I've  done  wrong,"  she  said.  "Yet — yet— 
Scott — "  she  halted  over  the  name,  uttering  it  shyly— 
"said  he  was — awfully  pleased." 

' '  Ah !  You  have  told  Scott ! ' '  There  was  a  sharp,  almost 
a  wrung,  sound  in  Isabel's  voice;  but  the  next  moment  she 
controlled  it,  and  spoke  with  steady  resolution.  "Then, 
my  dear,  you  needn't  have  any  misgivings.  If  you  love 
Eustace  and  he  loves  you,  it  is  the  best  thing  possible  for 
you  both."  She  held  Dinah  to  her  again  and  kissed  her; 
then  very  tenderly  released  her.  "You  must  run  and  get 
ready,  dear  child.  It  is  getting  late." 

Dinah  went  obediently,  still  with  that  bewildered  feeling 
of  having  somehow  taken  a  wrong  turning.  She  was  con- 
vinced in  her  own  mind  that  the  news  had  not  been  wel- 
come to  Isabel,  disguise  it  how  she  would.  And  suddenly 
through  her  mind  there  ran  the  memory  of  those  words  she 
had  uttered  a  few  weeks  before.  "Never  prefer  the  tinsel 
to  the  true  gold!"  She  had  not  fully  understood  their 
meaning  then.  Now  very  vividly  it  flashed  upon  her. 
Isabel  had  compared  her  two  brothers  in  that  brief  sentence. 
Isabel's  estimate  of  the  one  was  as  low  as  that  of  the  other 
was  high.  Isabel  did  not  love  Eustace — the  handsome, 
debonair  brother  who  had  once  been  all  the  world  to  her. 

A  little,  sick  feeling  of  doubt  went  through  Dinah !  Had 
she — by  any  evil  chance — had  she  made  a  mistake? 

And  then  the  man's  overwhelming  personality  swung 
suddenly  through  her  consciousness,  filling  all  her  being, 
possessing  her,  dominating  her.  She  flung  the  doubt  from 
her,  as  one  flings  away  a  poisonous  insect.  He  was  her 
own — her  very  own;  her  lover,  the  first,  the  best, — Apollo 
the  Magnificent! 

In  Isabel's  room  old  Biddy  Maloney  stood,  gazing  down 
at  her  mistress  with  eyes  of  burning  devotion. 

"And  is   it   yourself  that's   feeling  better  now?"   she 
questioned  fondly. 
17 


258  Greatheart 

Isabel  raised  herself,  smiling  her  sad  smile.  "Oh, 
Biddy,"  she  said,  "for  myself  I  feel  that  all  is  well — all 
will  be  well.  The  dawn  draws  nearer — every  hour. " 

Biddy  shook  her  head  with  pursed  lips.  "Ye  shouldn't 
talk  so,  mavourneen.  It's  the  Almighty  who  has  the  ruling. 
Ye  wouldn't  wish  to  go  before  your  time?" 

"Before  my  time!  Oh,  Biddy!  When  I  have  lingered 
in  the  prison-house  so  long!"  Slowly  Isabel  rose  to  her 
feet.  She  looked  at  Biddy  almost  whimsically.  "  I  think 
He  will  take  that  into  the  reckoning,"  she  said.  "Do  you 
know,  Biddy,  this  is  the  second  summons  that  has  come  to 
me?  And  I  think — I  think, "  her  face  was  glorified  again  as 
the  face  of  one  who  sees  a  vision — "  I  think  the  third  will  be 
the  last." 

Biddy's  black  eyes  screwed  up  suddenly.  She  turned  her 
face  away. 

"Will  we  be  getting  ready  to  go  now,  Miss  Isabel?"  she 
asked  after  a  moment,  in  a  voice  that  shook. 

The  glory  died  out  of  Isabel's  face,  though  the  reflection 
of  it  still  lingered  in  her  eyes.  "I  am  very  selfish,  Biddy,  " 
she  said.  "Can  you  guess  what  Miss  Dinah  has  just  told 
me?" 

"  Arrah  thin,  I  can, "  said  Biddy,  with  a  touch  of  aggres- 
siveness. "  I've  seen  it  coming  for  a  long  time  past.  And 
ye  didn't  ought  to  allow  it  at  all,  Miss  Isabel.  It's  a 
mistake,  that's  what  it  is.  It's  just  a  bad  mistake. " 

"Not  if  he  loves  her,  Biddy."  Isabel  spoke  gently, 
but  there  was  a  hint  of  reproof  in  her  voice. 

Biddy,  however,  remained  quite  unabashed.  "He  love 
her!"  she  snorted.  "As  if  he  ever  loved  anybody  besides 
himself!  Talk  about  the  lion  and  the  lamb,  Miss  Isabel! 
It's  a  cruel  shame  to  let  her  go  to  such  as  him.  And  what'll 
poor  Master  Scott  do  at  all  ?  And  he  worshipping  the  little 
fairy  feet  of  her!" 

"Hush,  Biddy,  hush!"     Isabel  spoke  with  decision.    "I 


The  Second  Summons  259 

hope — I  trust — that  he  isn't  very  grievously  disappointed. 
But  if  he  is,  it  is  the  one  thing  that  neither  you  nor  I  must 
ever  seem  to  suspect. ' 

"Ah!"  grumbled  Biddy  mutinously.  "And  isn't  that 
just  like  Sir  Eustace,  with  all  the  world  to  pick  from,  to 
choose  the  one  thing — the  one  little  wild  rose — as  Master 
Scott  had  set  his  heart  on?  He's  done  it  from  his  cradle. 
Always  the  one  thing  someone  else  wanted  he  must  grab 
for  himself.  But  is  it  too  late,  Miss  Isabel  darlint?" 
Sudden  hope  shone  in  the  old  woman's  eyes.  "Is  it  really 
too  late?  Couldn't  ye  drop  a  hint  to  the  dear  lamb ?  Sure 
and  she's  fond  of  Master  Scott !  Maybe  she'd  turn  to  him 
after  all  if  she  knew. " 

Isabel  shook  her  head  almost  sternly.  "Biddy,  no! 
This  is  no  affair  of  ours.  If  Master  Scott  suspected  for  a 
moment  what  you  have  just  said  to  me,  he  would  never 
forgive  you. " 

"May  I  come  in?"  said  Scott's  voice  at  the  door.  "My 
dear,  you  are  looking  better.  Are  you  well  enough  to 
start?" 

"Yes,  of  course. "  Isabel  moved  towards  him,  her  hands 
extended  in  mute  affection. 

He  took  and  held  them.  "Dinah  has  told  you?  I  am 
sure  you  are  glad.  Eustace  is  waiting  downstairs.  Come 
and  tell  him  how  glad  you  are!" 

His  eyes,  very  straight  and  steadfast,  met  hers. 

Isabel  tried  to  speak  in  answer,  but  caught  her  breath 
in  a  sudden  sob. 

He  waited  a  second.     Then,  "Isabel!"  he  said  gently. 

Sharply  she  controlled  herself.  "Yes.  Yes.  Let  us 
go!"  she  said.  "I  must — congratulate  Eustace." 

They  went;  and  old  Bidd}'  was  left  alone. 

She  looked  after  them  with  a  piteous  expression  on  her 
wrinkled  face;  then  suddenly,  with  a  wistful  gesture,  she 
clasped  her  old  worn  hands. 


260  Greatheart 

"I  pray  the  Almighty, "  she  said,  with  great  earnestness, 
"to  open  the  dear  young  lady's  eyes  before  it  is  too  late. 
And  if  He  wants  anyone  to  help  Him — sure  it's  meself 
that'll  be  only  too  pleased. " 

It  was  the  most  impressive  prayer  that  Biddy  had  ever 
uttered. 


PART  II 

CHAPTER  I 
CINDERELLA'S  PRINCE 

'"F'HE  early  dusk  of  February  was  falling,  together 
L  with  a  fine,  drenching  rain.  The  trees  that  over- 
hung the  muddy  lane  were  beating  their  stark  branches 
together  as  though  in  despair  over  the  general  hopeless- 
ness of  the  outlook.  The  west  wind  that  raced  across  the 
brown  fields  had  the  sharpness  of  snow  in  its  train. 

"We  shall  catch  it  before  we've  done, "  said  Bathurst  to 
his  hunter. 

Rupert  the  hunter,  a  dapple  grey  with  powerful  hind- 
quarters, cocked  a  knowing  ear  in  a  fashion  that  Dinah 
always  described  as  "his  smile." 

It  had  not  been  a  good  day  for  either  of  them.  The 
meet -had  been  at  a  considerable  distance,  there  had  been 
no  run  worth  mentioning;  and  now  that  it  was  over  they 
were  returning,  thoroughly  tired,  from  the  kennels. 

Bathurst's  pink  coat  clung  to  him  like  a  sack,  all  streaked 
and  darkened  with  rain.  It  had  weathered  a  good  many 
storms  in  its  time,  as  its  many  varieties  of  tint  testified ;  but 
despite  this  fact,  its  wearer  never  failed  to  look  a  sportsman 
and  a  gentleman.  There  was  nothing  of  the  vagabond 
about  Bathurst,  but  he  had  the  vagabond's  facility  for  mak- 
ing himself  at  home  wherever  he  went.  He  was  never  at  a 
loss,  never  embarrassed,  never  affronted.  He  took  life 

261 


262  Greatheart 

easily,  as  he  himself  put  it;  and  on  the  whole  he  found  it 
good. 

Riding  home  at  a  jog-trot  in  that  driving  rain  with  the 
prospect  of  having  to  feed  and  rub  down  Rupert  at  the  end 
of  it  before  he  could  attend  to  his  own  needs  was  not  a 
particularly  entrancing  prospect;  but  he  faced  it  philo- 
sophically. After  to-day  the  little  girl  would  be  at  home, 
and  she  could  do  it  for  him  again.  She  loved  to  wait 
on  him  hand  and  foot,  and  it  really  was  a  pleasure  to 
let  her. 

He  whistled  cheerily  to  himself  as  he  wended  his  leisurely 
way  through  the  dripping  lane  that  made  the  shortest  cut 
to  his  home.  It  would  be  nice  to  have  the  little  girl  home 
again.  Lydia  was  all  very  well — a  good  wife,  as  wives 
went — but  there  was  no  doubt  about  it  that  Dinah's  pres- 
ence made  a  considerable  difference  to  his  comfort.  The 
child  was  quick  to  forestall  his  wants ;  he  sometimes  thought 
that  she  was  even  more  useful  to  him  than  a  valet  would 
have  been.  He  had  missed  her  more  than  he  would  have 
dreamed  possible. 

Lydia  had  missed  her  too ;  he  was  sure  of  that.  She  had 
been  peculiarly  short  of  temper  lately.  Not  that  he  ever 
took  much  notice;  he  was  too  used  to  her  tantrums  for  that. 
But  it  certainly  was  more  comfortable  when  Dinah  was  at 
home  to  bear  the  brunt  of  them.  Yes,  on  the  whole  he 
was  quite  pleased  that  the  little  girl  was  coming  back.  It 
would  make  a  difference  to  him  in  many  ways. 

He  wondered  what  time  she  would  arrive.  He  had 
known,  but  he  had  forgotten.  He  believed  it  was  to  be 
some  time  in  the  evening.  Her  grand  friends  had  arranged 
to  stay  at  Great  Mallowes,  three  miles,  away  for  the  night, 
and  one  of  them — the  maid  probably — was  to  bring  Dinah 
home.  He  had  smiled  over  this  arrangement,  and  Lydia 
had  openly  scoffed  at  it.  As  if  a  girl  of  Dinah's  age  were 
not  capable  of  travelling  alone !  But  then  of  course  she  had 


Cinderella's  Prince  263 

been  ill,  very  ill  according  to  all  accounts;  and  it  was  quite 
decent  of  them  to  bestow  so  much  care  upon  her. 

He  fell  to  wondering  if  the  child  had  got  spoilt  at  all 
during  her  long  absence  from  home  and  the  harsh  discipline 
thereof.  If  so,  there  was  a  hard  time  before  her;  for  Lydia 
was  never  one  to  stand  any  nonsense.  She  had  always 
been  hard  on  her  first-born,  unreasonably  hard,  he  some- 
times thought;  though  it  was  not  his  business  to  interfere. 
The  task  of  chastising  the  daughter  of  the  family  was 
surely  the  mother's  exclusive  prerogative;  and  certainly 
Lydia  had  carried  it  out  very  thoroughly.  And  if  at  times 
he  thought  her  over-severe,  he  could  not  deny  that  the  result 
achieved  was  eminently  satisfactory.  Dinah  was  always 
docile  and  active  in  his  service — altogether  a  very  good 
child;  and  this  was  presumably  due  to  her  mother's  train- 
ing. No,  on  the  whole  he  had  not  much  fault  to  find  with 
either  of  them.  Doubtless  Lydia  understood  her  own 
sex  best. 

He  was  nearing  the  end  of  the  long  lane;  it  terminated 
close  to  his  home.  Rupert  quickened  his  pace.  They  were 
both  splashed  with  mud  from  shoulder  to  heel.  They  had 
both  had  more  than  enough  of  the  wet  and  the  slush. 

"That's  right,  Rupert,  my  boy!"  the  man  murmured. 
"Finish  in  style!" 

They  came  out  from  beneath  the  over-arching  trees, 
emerging  upon  the  high  road  that  led  from  Great  Mallow  es 
to  Perrythorpe.  The  hoot  of  a  motor-horn  caused  Rupert 
to  prick  his  ears,  and  his  master  reined  him  back  as  two 
great,  shining  head-lights  appeared  round  a  curve.  They 
drew  swiftly  near,  flashed  past,  and  were  gone  meteor-like 
into  the  gloom. 

"Whose  car  was  that,  I  wonder?"  mused  Bathurst. 
"The  de  Vignes's?  It  didn't  look  like  one  of  the  Court  cars, 
but  the  old  bird  is  always  buying  something  new.  Lucky 
devil!" 


264  Greatheart 

The  thought  of  the  Colonel  renewed  his  thoughts  of 
Dinah.  Certain  hints  the  former  had  dropped  had  made 
him  wonder  a  little  if  the  child  were  always  as  demure  as  she 
seemed.  Not  that  Colonel  de  Vigne  had  actually  found 
fault  with  her.  He  was  plainly  fond  of  her.  But  he 
had  not  spoken  as  if  Dinah  had  effaced  herself  as  com- 
pletely abroad  as  she  did  at  home. 

"Oh,  yes,  the  little  baggage  enjoyed  herself — was  as 
gay  as  a  lark — till  she  got  ill,"  he  had  said.  "You  may 
find  her  something  of  a  handful  when  she  gets  back, 
Bathurst.  She's  stretched  her  wings  a  bit  since  she 
left  you." 

Bathurst  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  the  comforting 
reflection  that  he  would  not  have  the  trouble  of  dealing 
with  her.  If  she  had  been  giddy,  after  all,  it  was  but  natu- 
ral. Her  mother  had  not  been  particularly  steady  in  the 
days  of  her  wild  youth.  And  anyhow  he  was  sure  her 
mother  would  speedily  break  her  in  again.  She  had  a  will 
of  iron  before  which  Dinah  was  always  forced  to  bend. 

He  rode  on  along  the  highroad.  It  was  not  more  than 
half  a  mile  farther  to  his  home  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village. 
Somewhere  in  the  gloom  ahead  of  him  church-bells  were 
pealing.  It  was  practice-night,  he  remembered.  Dinah 
loved  the  sound  of  the  bells.  She  woul<i  feel  that  they  were 
ringing  in  her  honour.  Funny  little  Dinah!  The  child 
was  full  of  fancies  of  that  sort.  Just  as  well  perhaps,  for  it 
was  the  only  form  of  amusement  that  ever  came  into  her 
home  life. 

The  gay  peal  turned  into  a  deafening  clashing  as  at  length 
he  neared  his  home.  The  old  church  stood  only  a  stone's 
throw  further  on.  They  were  ringing  the  joy-bells  with  a 
vengeance.  And  then  very  suddenly  he  caught  sight  of  the 
tail-lamp  of  a  car  close  to  his  own  gate. 

Dinah  had  returned  then.  They  had  actually  chartered 
that  car  to  convey  her  from  Great  Mallowes.  He  pursed 


Cinderella's  Prince  265 

his  lips  to  a  whistle.  The  little  girl  had  been  in  clover 
indeed. 

"She  certainly  won't  think  much  of  the  home  crusts  after 
this,"  he  murmured  to  himself. 

He  walked  Rupert  round  to  the  tumble-down  stable,  and 
dismounted. 

For  the  next  quarter  of  an  hour  he  was  busy  over  the 
animal.  He  thought  it  a  little  strange  that  Dinah  did  not 
spy  the  stable-lamp  from  the  kitchen  and  come  dancing 
out  to  greet  him.  He  also  wondered  why  the  car  lingered 
so  long.  It  looked  as  if  someone  other  than  the  maid 
had  accompanied  her,  and  were  staying  to  tea. 

He  never  took  tea  after  a  day's  hunting;  hot  whisky  and 
water  and  a  bath  formed  his  customary  programme,  and 
then  a  tasty  supper  and  bed. 

He  supposed  on  this  occasion  that  he  would  have  to  go  in 
and  show  himself,  though  he  was  certainly  not  fit  to  be 
seen.  Reluctantly  he  pulled  the  bedraggled  pink  coat 
on  again.  After  all,  it  did  not  greatly  matter.  Hunting 
was  its  own  excuse.  No  sportsman  ever  returned  in  the 
apple-pie  order  in  which  he  started. 

Carelessly  he  sauntered  in  by  way  of  the  back  premises, 
and  was  instantly  struck  by  the  sound  of  a  man's  voice, 
well-bred,  with  a  slightly  haughty  intonation,  speaking  in 
one  of  the  front  rooms  of  the  little  house. 

"  Dinah  seemed  to  think  that  she  could  not  keep  it  in  till 
to-morrow,"  it  said,  with  easy  assurance.  "So  I  thought 
I  had  better  come  along  with  her  to-night  and  get  it  over." 

The  words  reached  Bathurst  as  he  arrived  in  the  small 
square  hall,  and  he  stopped  dead.  "Hullo!  Hullo!"  he 
murmured  softly  to  himself. 

And  then  came  his  wife's  voice,  a  harsh,  determined  voice, 
"Do  I  understand  that  you  wish  to  marry  my  daughter?" 

"That's  the  idea,"  came  the  suave  reply.  "You  don't 
know  me,  of  course,  but  I  think  I  can  satisfy  you  that  I  am 


266  Greatheart 

not  an  undesirable  parti.  My  family  is  considered  fairly 
respectable,  as  old  families  go.  I  am  the  ninth  baronet  in 
direct  succession,  and  I  have  a  very  fair  amount  of  worldly 
goods  to  offer  my  wife. " 

Mrs.  Bathurst  broke  in  upon  him,  a  tremor  of  eagerness 
in  her  hard  voice.  "  If  that  is  the  case,  of  course  I  have  no 
objection,"  she  said.  "Dinah  won't  do  any  better  for 
herself  than  that.  It  seems  to  me  that  she  will  have  the 
best  of  the  bargain.  But  that  is  your  affair.  She's  full 
young.  I  don't  suppose  you  want  to  marry  her  yet,  do 
you?" 

"I'd  marry  her  to-night  if  I  could,"  said  Sir  Eustace, 
with  his  careless  laugh. 

But  Mrs.  Bathurst  did  not  laugh  with  him.  "We'll 
have  the  banns  published  and  everything  done  proper, "  she 
said.  "Hasty  marriages  as  often  as  not  aren't  regular. 
Here,  Dinah!  Don't  stand  there  listening!  Go  and  see  if 
the  kettle  boils!" 

It  was  at  this  point  that  .Bathurst  deemed  that  the 
moment  had  arrived  to  present  himself.  He  entered,  almost 
running  into  Dinah  about  to  hurry  out. 

"Hullo!"  he  said.  "Hullo!"  and  taking  her  by  the 
shoulders,  kissed  her.  i  yt 

She  clung  to  him  for  a  moment,  her  sweet  face  burn- 
ing. "Oh,  Dad!"  she  murmured  in  confusion,  "Oh, 
Dad!" 

With  his  arm  about  her,  he  turned  her  back  into  the 
room.  "You  come  back  and  introduce  me  to  your  new 
friend!"  he  said.  "I've  got  to  thank  him,  you  know,  for 
taking  such  care  of  you." 

She  yielded,  but  not  very  willingly.  She  was  painfully 
embarrassed,  almost  incoherent,  as  she  obeyed  Bathurst's 
behest. 

"This — this  is  Dad, "  she  murmured. 

Sir  Eustace  came  forward  with  his  leisurely  air  of  con- 


Cinderella's  Prince  267 

fidence.  His  great  bulk  seemed  to  fill  the  low  room.  He 
looked  even  more  magnificent  than  usual. 

"Ah,  sir,  you  have  just  come  in  from  hunting, "  he  said. 
"I  hope  I  don't  intrude.  It's  a  beastly  wet  evening.  I 
should  think  you're  not  sorry  to  get  in." 

Mrs.  Bathurst,  tall,  bony,  angular,  with  harsh,  gipsy 
features  that  were  still  in  a  fashion  boldly  handsome, 
broke  in  upon  her  husband's  answering  greeting. 

"Ronald,  this  gentleman  tells  me  he  wants  to  marry 
Dinah.  It  is  very  sudden,  but  these  things  often  are. 
You  will  give  your  consent  of  course.  I  have  already 
given  mine." 

"Easy,  easy!"  laughed  Bathurst.  "Why  exceed  the 
speed  limit  in  this  reckless  fashion?  You  are  Sir  Eustace 
Studley?  I  am  very  pleased  to  meet  you." 

He  held  out  his  hand  to  Sir  Eustace,  and  gave  him  the 
grasp  of  good-fellowship.  It  seemed  to  Dinah  that  the 
very  atmosphere  changed  magically  with  the  coming  of  her 
father.  No  difficult  situation  ever  dismayed  him.  He  and 
Sir  Eustace  were  not  dissimilar  in  this  respect.  Whatever 
the  circumstances,  they  both  knew  how  to  hold  their  own 
with  absolute  ease.  It  was  a  faculty  which  she  would 
have  given  much  to  possess. 

Sir  Eustace  was  laughing  in  his  careless,  well-bred  way. 
"It's  rather  a  shame  to  spring  the  matter  on  you  like 
this, "  he  said.  "  I  ought  to  have  waited  to  ask  your  consent 
to  the  engagement,  but  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  a  very  patient 
person,  and  I  wanted  to  make  sure  of  your  daughter  before 
we  parted.  We  are  staying  at  Great  Mallowes — at  the 
Royal  Stag.  May  I  come  over  to-morrow  and  put  things 
on  a  more  business-like  footing?" 

"Oh,  don't  hurry  away!"  said  Bathurst  easily.  "Sit 
down  and  have  some  tea  with  us!  It  is  something  of  a 
surprise  certainly  but  a  very  agreeable  one.  Lydia,  what 
about  tea?  Or  perhaps  you  prefer  a  whisky  and  soda?" 


268  Greatheart 

"Tea,  thanks,"  said  Sir  Eustace,  and  seated  himself 
with  his  superb  air  of  complete  assurance. 

Mrs.  Bathurst  turned  upon  her  daughter.  "Dinah, 
how  many  more  times  am  I  to  tell  you  to  go  and  see  if  the 
kettle  boils?" 

Dinah  started  as  one  rudely  awakened  from  an  entranc- 
ing dream.  "I  am  sorry,"  she  murmured  in  confusion. 
"I  forgot." 

She  fled  from  the  room  with  the  words,  and  her  mother, 
with  dark  brows  drawn,  looked  after  her  for  a  moment,  then 
sat  down  facing  Sir  Eustace. 

"I  should  like  to  know,"  she  said  aggressively,  "what 
you  are  prepared  to  do  for  her." 

Sir  Eustace  smiled  in  his  aloof,  slightly  supercilious 
fashion.  He  had  been  more  or  less  prepared  for  Dinah's 
mother,  but  the  temptation  to  address  her  as  "My  good 
woman"  was  almost  more  than  he  could  withstand. 

"Will  you  not  allow  me,"  he  said,  icily  courteous,  "to 
settle  this  important  matter  with  Mr.  Bathurst  to-morrow? 
He  will  then  be  in  a  position  to  explain  it  to  you. " 

Mrs.  Bathurst  made  a  movement  of  fierce  impatience. 
She  had  been  put  in  her  place  by  this  stranger  and  furiously 
she  resented  it.  But  the  man  was  a  baronet,  and  a  mar- 
vellous catch  for  a  son-in-law;  and  she  did  not  dare  to  put 
her  resentment  into  words. 

She  got  up  therefore,  and  flounced  angrily  to  the  door. 
Sir  Eustace  arose  without  haste  and  with  a  stretch  of  his 
long  arm  opened  it  for  her. 

She  flung  him  a  glance,  half-hostile,  half-awed,  as  she 
went  through.  She  had  a  malignant  hatred  for  the  upper 
class,  despite  the  fact  that  her  own  husband  was  a  member 
thereof.  And  yet  she  held  it  in  unwilling  respect.  Sir 
Eustace's  nonchalantly  administered  snub  was  far  harder 
to  bear  than  any  open  rudeness  from  a  man  of  her  own 
standing  would  have  been. 


Cinderella's  Prince  269 

Fiercely  indignant,  she  entered  the  kitchen,  and  caught 
Dinah  peeping  at  herself  in  the  shining  surface  of  the 
warming-pan  after  having  removed  her  hat. 

"Ah,  that's  your  game,  my  girl,  is  it  ? "  she  said.  "You've 
come  back  the  grand  lady,  have  you?  You've  no  further 
use  for  your  mother,  I  daresay.  She  may  work  her  fingers 
to  the  bone  for  all  you  care — or  ever  will  care  again." 

Dinah  whizzed  round,  scarlet  and  crestfallen.  "Oh, 
Mother !  How  you  startled  me !  I  only  wanted  to  see  if — 
if  my  hair  was  tidy. " 

"And  that's  one  of  your  lies, "  said  Mrs.  Bathurst,  with  a 
heavy  hand  on  her  shoulder.  "They've  taught  you  how 
to  juggle  with  the  truth,  that's  plain.  Oh  yes,  Lady  Stud- 
ley  that  is  to  be,  you've  learnt  a  lot  since  you've  been  away, 
I  can  see — learnt  to  despise  your  mother,  I'll  lay  a  wager. 
But  I'll  show  you  she's  not  to  be  despised  by  a  prinking 
minx  like  you.  What  did  I  send  you  in  here  for,  eh?" 

"To — to  see  to  the  kettle,"  faltered  Dinah,  shrinking 
before  the  stern  regard  of  the  black  eyes  that  so  mercilessly 
held  her  own. 

"And  there  it  is  ready  to  boil  over,  and  you  haven't 
touched  it,  you  worthless  little  hussy,  you!  Take  that — 
and  dare  to  disobey  me  again!" 

She  dealt  the  girl  a  blow  with  her  open  hand  as  she  spoke, 
a  swinging,  pitiless  blow  on  the  cheek,  and  pushed  her 
fiercely  from  her. 

Dinah  reeled  momentarily.  The  sudden  violence  of  the 
attack  bewildered  her.  Actually  she  had  almost  forgotten 
how  dreadful  her  mother  could  be.  Then,  recovering  her- 
self, she  went  to  the  fire  and  stooped  over  it,  without  a 
word.  She  had  a  burning  sensation  at  the  throat,  and 
she  was  on  the  verge  of  passionate  tears.  The  memory 
of  Isabel's  parting  embrace,  the  tender  drawing  of  her 
arms  only  a  brief  half -hour  before  made  this  home-coming 
almost  intolerable. 


270  Greatheart 

"What's  that  thing  you're  wearing?"  demanded  Mrs. 
Bathurst  abruptly. 

Dinah  lifted  the  kettle  and  turned.  "It  is  a  fur-lined 
coat  that — that  he  bought  for  me  in  Paris." 

"Then  take  it  off!"  commanded  Mrs.  Bathurst.  "And 
don't  you  wear  it  again  until  I  give  you  leave !  How  dare  you 
accept  presents  from  the  man  before  I've  even  seen  him?" 

"I  couldn't  help  it,"  murmured  Dinah,  as  she  slipped  off 
the  luxurious  garment  that  Isabel  had  chosen  for  her. 

"Couldn't  help  it!"  Bitterly  Mrs.  Bathurst  echoed  the 
words.  "You'll  say  you  couldn't  help  him  falling  in  love 
with  you  next!  As  if  you  didn't  set  out  to  catch  him,  you 
little  artful  brown-faced  monkey!  Oh,  I  always  knew  you 
were  crafty,  for  all  your  simple  ways.  Mind,  I  don't  say 
you  haven't  done  well  for  yourself,  You  have — a  deal 
better  than  you  deserve.  But  don't  ever  say  you  couldn't 
help  it  to  me  again!  For  if  you  do,  I'll  trounce  you  for  it, 
do  you  hear  ?  None  of  your  coy  airs  for  me !  I  won't  put 
up  with  'em.  You'll  behave  yourself  as  long  as  you're 
in  this  house,  or  I'll  know  the  reason  why." 

To  all  of  which  Dinah  listened  in  set  silence,  telling  her- 
self with  desperate  insistence  that  it  would  not  be  for  long. 
Sir  Eustace  did  not  mean  to  be  kept  waiting,  and  he  would 
deliver  her  finally  and  for  all  time. 

She  did  not  know  exactly  why  her  mother  was  angry. 
She  supposed  she  resented  the  idea  of  losing  her  slave. 
There  seemed  no  other  possible  reason,  for  love  for  her  she 
had  none.  Dinah  knew  but  too  cruelly  well  that  she  had 
been  naught  but  an  unwelcome  burden  from  the  very 
earliest  days  of  her  existence.  Till  she  met  Isabel,  she 
had  never  known  what  real  mother-love  could  be. 

She  wondered  if  her  fiance  would  notice  the  red  mark  on 
her  cheek  when  she  carried  in  the  teapot;  but  he  was  hold- 
ing a  careless  conversation  with  her  father,  and  only  gave 
her  a  glance  and  a  smile. 


Cinderella's  Prince  271 

During  the  meal  that  followed  he  scarcely  addressed  her 
or  so  much  as  looked  her  way.  He  treated  her  mother 
with  a  freezing  aloofness  that  made  her  tremble  inwardly. 
She  wondered  how  he  dared. 

When  at  length  he  rose  to  go,  however,  his  -  attention 
returned  to  Dinah.  He  laid  a  dominating  hand  upon  her 
shoulder.  "Are  you  coming  to  see  me  off?" 

She  glanced  at  her  mother  in  involuntary  appeal,  but 
failed  to  catch  her  eye.  Silently  she  turned  to  the  door. 

He  took  leave  of  her  parents  with  the  indifference  of 
one  accustomed  to  popularity.  "I  shall  be  round  in  the 
morning, "  he  said  to  her  father.  "About  twelve?  That'll 
suit  me  very  well;  unless  I  wait  till  the  afternoon  and  bring 
my  sister.  I  know  she  hopes  to  come  over  if  she  is  well 
enough.  That  is,  of  course,  if  you  don't  object  to  an 
informal  call." 

He  spoke  as  if  in  his  opinion  the  very  fact  of  its  infor- 
mality conferred  a  favour,  and  again  Dinah  trembled  lest 
her  mother  should  break  forth  into  open  rudeness. 

But  to  her  amazement  Mrs.  Bathurst  seemed  somewhat 
overawed  by  the  princely  stranger.  She  even  smiled  in  a 
grim  way  as  she  said,  "I  will  be  at  home  to  her." 

Sir  Eustace  made  her  a  ceremonious  bow  and  went  out 
sweeping  Dinah  along  with  him.  He  closed  the  door  with  a 
decision  there  was  no  mistaking,  and  the  next  moment  he 
had  her  in  his  arms. 

"You  poor  little  frightened  mouse!"  he  said.  "No 
wonder — no  wonder  you  never  knew  before  what  life,  real 
life,  could  be!" 

She  clung  to  him  with  all  her  strength,  burying  her  face 
in  the  fur  collar  of  his  coat.  "Oh,  do  marry  me,  quick — 
quick — quick!"  she  besought  him,  in  a  muffled  whisper. 
"And  take  me  away!" 

He  gathered  her  close  in  his  arms,  so  close  that  she 
trembled  again.  Her  nerves  were  all  on  edge  that  night. 


272  Greatheart 

"If  they  won't  let  me  have  you  in  a  month  from 
now,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  that  quivered  slightly,  "  I  swear 
I'll  run  away  with  you." 

There  was  no  echo  of  humour  in  his  words  though  she 
tried  to  laugh  at  them,  and  ever  he  pressed  her  closer  and 
closer  to  his  heart,  till  panting  she  had  to  lift  her  face.  And 
then  he  kissed  her  in  his  passionate  compelling  way,  hold- 
ing her  shy  lips  with  his  own  till  he  actually  forced  them  to 
respond.  She  felt  as  if  his  love  burned  her,  but,  even  so, 
she  dared  not  shrink  from  it.  There  was  so  much  at 
stake.  Her  mother's  lack  of  love  was  infinitely  harder  to 
endure. 

And  so  she  bore  the  fierce  flame  of  his  passion  unflinching 
even  though  her  spirit  clamoured  wildly  to  be  free,  choosing 
rather  to  be  consumed  by  it  than  left  a  beaten  slave  in  her 
house  of  bondage. 

His  kisses  waked  in  her  much  more  of  fear  than  rapture. 
That  untamed  desire  of  his  frightened  her  to  the  very 
depths  of  her  being,  but  yet  it  was  infinitely  preferable  to 
the  haughty  indifference  with  which  he  regarded  all  the 
rest  of  the  world.  It  meant  that  he  would  not  let  her  go, 
and  that  in  itself  was  comfort  unspeakable  to  Dinah.  He 
meant  to  have  her  at  any  price,  and  she  was  very  badly  in 
need  of  deliverance,  even  though  she  might  have  to  pay 
for  it,  and  pay  heavily. 

It  was  at  this  point,  actually  while  his  fiery  kisses  were 
scorching  her  lips,  that  a  very  strange  thought  crept  all 
unawares  into  her  consciousness.  If  she  ever  needed  help, 
if  she  ever  needed  escape,  she  had  a  friend  to  whom  she 
could  turn — a  staunch  and  capable  friend  who  would  never 
fail  her.  She  was  sure  that  Scott  would  find  a  way  to  ease 
the  burden  if  it  became  too  heavy.  Her  faith  in  him,  his 
wisdom,  his  strength,  was  unbounded.  And  he  helped 
everyone — the  valiant  servant  Greatheart,  protector  of  the 
helpless,  sustainer  of  the  vanquished. 


Cinderella's  Prince  273 

When  her  lover  was  gone  at  last,  she  closed  the  door  and 
leaned  against  it,  feeling  weak  in  every  fibre. 

Bathurst,  coming  out  a  few  moments  later,  was  struck 
by  her  spent  look.  "Well,  Dinah  lass,"  he  said  lightly, 
"you  look  as  if  it  had  cost  something  of  an  effort  to  land 
your  catch.  But  he's  a  mighty  fine  one,  I  will  say  that  for 
him. " 

She  went  to  him,  twining  her  arm  in  his,  forcing  herself 
to  smile.  "Oh;  Dad,"  she  said,  "he  is  fine,  isn't  he?" 
But — but — she  uttered  the  words  almost  in  spite  of  herself 
— "you  should  see  his  brother.  You  should  see — Scott." 

"What?  Is  he  finer  still?"  laughed  Bathurst,  pinching 
her  cheek.  "Have  you  got  the  whole  family  at  your  feet, 
you  little  baggage?" 

She  flushed  very  deeply.  "Oh  no!  Oh  no!  I  didn't 
mean  that.  Scott — Scott  is  not  a  bit  like  that.  He  is — he 
is — "  And  there  she  broke  off,  for  who  could  hope  to 
convey  any  faithful  impression  of  this  good  friend  of  hers? 
There  were  no  words  that  could  adequately  describe  him. 
With  a  little  sigh  she  turned  from  the  subject.  "I'm  glad 
you  like  Eustace, "  she  said  shyly. 

Bathurst  laughed  a  little,  then  bent  unexpectedly,  and 
kissed  her.  "It's  a  case  of  Cinderella  and  the  prince,"  he 
said  lightly.  "But  the  luck  isn't  all  on  Cinderella's  side, 
I'm  thinking." 

She  clung  to  him  eagerly.  "Oh,  Daddy,  thank  you! 
Thank  you !  Do  you  know — it's  funny — Scott  used  to  call 
me  Cinderella!" 

Bathurst  crooked  his  brows  quizzically.  "How  original 
of  him!  This  Scott  seems  to  be  quite  a  wonderful  person. 
And  what  was  your  pet  name  for  him  I  wonder,  eh,  sly- 
boots?" 

She  laughed  in  evident  embarrassment.  There  was 
something  implied  in  her  father's  tone  that  made  her  cur- 
iously reluctant  to  discuss  her  hero.  And  yet,  in  justi- 

18 


274  Greatheart 

fication  to  the  man  himself,  she  felt  she  must  say  some- 
thing. 

"His  brother  and  sister  call  him — Stumpy,"  she  said, 
' '  because  he  is  little  and  he  limps.  But  I —  "  her  face  was  as 
red  as  the  hunting-coat  against  which  it  nestled — "I  called 
him — Mr.  Greatheart.  He  is — just  like  that. " 

Mr.  Bathurst  laughed  again,  tweaking  her  ear.  "Alto- 
gether an  extraordinary  family ! "  he  commented.  "I  must 
meet  this  Mr.  Stumpy  Greatheart.  Now  suppose  you  run 
upstairs  and  turn  on  the  hot  water,  And  when  you've  done 
that,  you  can  take  my  boots  down  to  the  kitchen  to  dry. 
And  mind  you  don't  fall  foul  of  your  mother,  for  she  strikes 
me  as  being  a  bit  on  the  ramp  to-night ! " 

He  kissed  her  again,  and  she  clung  to  him  very  fast  for 
a  moment  or  two,  tasting  in  that  casual,  kindly  embrace  all 
the  home  joy  she  had  ever  known. 

Then,  hearing  her  mother's  step,  she  swiftly  and  guiltily 
disengaged  herself  and  fled  up  the  stairs  like  a  startled  bird. 
As  she  prepared  his  bath  for  him,  the  wayward  thought 
came  to  her  that  if  only  he  and  she  had  lived  alone  together, 
she  would  never  have  wanted  to  get  married  at  all — even 
for  the  delight  of  being  Lady  Studley  instead  of  "poor  little 
Dinah  Bathurst!" 


CHAPTER  II 

WEDDING  ARRANGEMENTS 

,  TT  was  certainly  not  love  at  first  sight  that  prompted 
1     Mrs.  Bathurst  to  take  a  fancy  to  Isabel  Everard. 

Secretly  Dinah  had  dreaded  their  meeting,  fearing  that 
innate  antagonism  which  her  mother  invariably  seemed  to 
cherish  against  the  upper  class.  But  within  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  of  their  meeting  she  was  aware  of  a  change  of  attitude, 
a  quenching  of  the  hostile  element,  a  curious  and  wholly 
new  sensation  of  peace. 

For  though  Isabel's  regal  carriage  and  low,  musical  voice, 
marked  her  as  one  of  the  hated  species,  her  gentleness 
banished  all  impression  of  pride.  She  treated  Dinah's 
mother  with  an  assumption  of  friendliness  that  had  in  it  no 
trace  of  condescension,  and  she  was  so  obviously  sincere 
in  her  wish  to  establish  a  cordial  relation  that  it  was  im- 
possible to'remain  ungracious. 

"I  can't  feel  that  we  are  strangers,"  she  said,  with  her 
rare  smile  when  Dinah  had  departed  to  fetch  the  tea. 
' '  Your  little  Dinah  has  done  so  much  for  me — more  than  I 
can  ever  tell  you.  That  I  am  to  have  her  for  a  sister  seems 
almost  too  good  to  be  true. " 

" I  wonder  you  think  she's  good  enough, "  remarked  Mrs. 
Bathurst  in  her  blunt  way.  "She  isn't  much  to  look  at. 
I've  done  my  best  to  bring  her  up  well,  but  I  never  thought 
of  her  turning  into  a  fine  lady.  I  question  if  she's  fit 
for  it. " 

275 


276  Greatheart 

"If  she  were  a  fine  lady,  I  don't  think  I  should  think  so 
highly  of  her,"  Isabel  said  gently.  "But  as  to  her  being 
unfit  to  fill  a  high  position,  she  is  only  inexperienced  and 
she  will  learn  very  quickly.  I  am  willing  to  teach  her  all  in 
my  power." 

"Aye,  learn  to  despise  her  mother,"  commented  Mrs. 
Bathurst,  with  sudden  bitterness,  "after  all  the  trouble 
I've  taken  to  make  her  respect  me. " 

"  I  should  never  teach  her  that, "  Isabel  answered  quietly. 
"And  I  am  sure  that  she  would  be  quite  incapable  of  learn- 
ing it.  Mrs.  Bathurst,  do  you  really  think  that  worldly 
position  is  a  thing  that  greatly  matters  to  anyone  in  the 
long  run?  I  don't." 

It  was  then  that  a  faint,  half-grudging  admiration  awoke 
in  the  elder  woman's  resentful  soul,  and  she  looked  at 
Isabel  with  the  first  glimmer  of  kindliness.  "You're 
right,"  she  said  slowly,  "it  don't  matter  to  those  who've 
got  it.  But  to  those  who  haven't —  "  her  eyes  glowed  red 
for  a  moment — "you  don't  know  how  it  galls,"  she  said. 

And  then  she  flushed  dully,  realizing  that  she  had  made  a 
confidante  of  one  of  the  hated  breed. 

But  Isabel's  hand  was  on  hers  in  a  moment ;  her  eyes,  full 
of  understanding,  looked  earnest  friendship  into  hers. 
"  Oh,  I  know, "  she  said.  "  It  is  the  little  things  that  gall  us 
all,  until — until  some  great — some  fundamental — sorrow 
wrenches  our  very  lives  in  twain.  And  then — and  then — 
one  can  almost  laugh  to  think  one  ever  cared  about  them." 

Her  voice  throbbed  with  feeling.  She  had  lifted  the  veil 
for  a  moment  to  salve  the  other  woman's  bitterness. 

And  Mrs.  Bathurst  realized  it,  and  was  touched.  "Ah! 
You've  suffered,"  she  said. 

Isabel  bent  her  head.  "But  it  is  over,"  she  said.  "I 
married  a  man  who,  they  said,  was  beneath  me.  But — 
God  knows — he  was  above  me — in  every  way.  And  then — 
I  lost  him. "  Her  voice  sank. 


Wedding  Arrangements  277 

Mrs.  Bathurst's  hand  came  down  with  a  clumsy  move- 
ment upon  hers.  "He  died?"  she  said. 

"Yes."  Almost  in  a  whisper  Isabel  made  answer. 
"For  years  I  would  not  face  it — would  not  believe  it.  He 
went  from  me  so  suddenly — oh,  God,  so  suddenly —  '  a 
tremor  of  anguish  sounded  in  the  low  words ;  but  in  a  mo- 
ment she  raised  her  head,  and  her  eyes  were  shining  with  a 
brightness  that  no  pain  could  dim.  "It  is  over,"  she  said. 
"It  is  quite,  quite  over.  My  night  is  past  and  can  never 
come  again.  I  am  waiting  now  for  the  full  day.  And  I 
know  that  I  have  not  very  long  to  wait.  I  have  not  seen 
him — no,  I  have  not  seen  him.  But — twice  now — I  have 
heard  his  voice." 

"Poor  soul!     Poor  soul!"  said  Mrs.  Bathurst. 

It  was  all  the  sympathy  she  could  express;  but  it  came 
from  her  heart.  She  no  longer  regretted  her  own  burst  of 
confidence.  The  spontaneous  answer  that  it  had  evoked  had 
had  a  magically  softening  effect  upon  her.  In  all  her  life 
no  one  had  ever  charmed  her  thus.  She  was  astonished 
herself  at  the  melting  of  her  hardness. 

"You've  suffered  worse  than  I  have,"  she  said,  "for  I 
never  cared  for  any  man  like  that.  I  was  let  down  badly 
when  I  was  a  girl,  and  I've  never  had  any  opinion  of  any  of 
'em  since.  My  husband's  all  right,  so  far  as  he  goes.  But 
he  isn't  the  sort  of  man  to  worship.  Precious  few  of  'em 
are." 

Whereat  Isabel  laughed,  a  soft,  sad  laugh.  "  That  is  why 
worldly  position  matters  so  little, "  she  said.  "If  by  chance 
the  right  man  really  comes,  nothing  else  counts.  He  is  just 
everything." 

"Maybe  you're  right,"  said  Mrs.  Bathurst,  with  gloomy 
acquiescence.  "Anyhow,  it  isn't  for  me  to  say  you're 
wrong." 

And  this  was  why  when  Dinah  brought  in  the  tea,  she 
found  a  wholly  new  element  in  the  atmosphere,  and  missed 


278  Greatheart 

the  customary  sharp  rebuke  from  her  mother's  lips  when 
she  had  to  go  back  for  the  sugar-tongs. 

She  had  been  disappointed  that  her  friend  Scott  had  not 
been  of  the  party.  Isabel's  explanation  that  he  had  gone 
home  at  Eustace's  wish  to  attend  to  some  business  had  not 
removed  an  odd  little  hurt  sense  of  having  been  defrauded. 
She  had  counted  upon  seeing  Scott  that  day.  It  was  almost 
as  if  he  had  failed  her  when  she  needed  him,  though  why  she 
seemed  to  need  him  she  could  not  have  said,  nor  could  he 
possibly  have  known  that  she  would  do  so. 

Sir  Eustace  was  in  her  father's  den.  She  was  sure  that 
they  were  getting  on  very  well  together  from  the  occasional 
bursts  of  laughter  with  which  their  conversation  was 
interspersed.  They  were  not  apparently  sticking  exclus- 
ively to  business.  And  now  that  Isabel  had  won  her 
mother,  deeply  though  she  rejoiced  over  the  conquest,  she 
felt  a  little — a  very  little — forlorn.  They  were  all  talking 
about  her,  but  if  Scott  had  been  there  he  would  have  talked 
to  her  and  made  her  feel  at  ease.  She  could  not  understand 
his  going,  even  at  his  brother's  behest.  It  seemed  incredible 
that  he  should  not  want  to  see  her  home. 

She  sat  meekly  in  the  background,  thinking  of  him, 
while  she  drank  her  tea;  and  then,  just  as  she  finished,  there 
came  the  sound  of  voices  at  the  door,  and  her  father  and  Sir 
Eustace  came  in.  They  were  laughing  still.  Evidently 
the  result  of  the  interview  was  satisfactory  to  both.  Sir 
Eustace  greeted  his  hostess  with  lofty  courtesy,  and  passed 
on  straight  to  her  side. 

She  turned  and  tingled  at  his  approach;  he  was  looking 
more  princely  than  ever.  Instinctively  she  rose. 

"What  do  you  want  to  get  up  for?"  demanded  her 
mother  sharply. 

Sir  Eustace  reached  his  little  trembling  fiancee,  and  took 
the  eager  hand  she  stretched  to  him.  His  blue  eyes  flashed 
their  fierce  flame  over  her  upturned,  quivering  face.  "  Take 


Wedding  Arrangements  279 

me  into  the  kitchen— any  where !"  he  murmured.  "I  want 
you  to  myself." 

She  nodded.  "Don't  you  want  any  tea?  All  right. 
Dad  doesn't  either.  I'll  clear  away. " 

"No,  you  don't!"  her  mother  said.  "You  sit  down  and 
behave  yourself!  You'll  clear  when  I  tell  you  to;  not 
before." 

Sir  Eustace  wheeled  round  to  her,  the  flame  of  his  look 
turning  to  ice.  "With  your  permission,  madam,"  he  said 
with  extreme  formality,  "Dinah  and  I  are  going  to  retire 
to  talk  things  over. " 

He  had  his  way.  It  was  obvious  that  he  meant  to  have 
it.  He  motioned  to  Dinah  with  an  imperious  gesture  to 
precede  him,  and  she  obeyed,  not  daring  to  glance  in  her 
mother's  direction. 

Mrs.  Bathurst  said  no  more.  Something  in  Sir  Eustace's 
bearing  seemed  to  quell  her.  She  watched  him  go  with 
eyes  that  shone  with  a  hot  resentment  under  drawn  brows. 
It  took  Isabel's  utmost  effort  to  charm  her  back  to  a  mood 
less  hostile. 

As  for  Dinah,  she  led  her  fiance  back  to  her  father's  den  in 
considerable  trepidation.  To  be  compelled  to  resist  her 
mother's  will  was  a  state  of  affairs  that  filled  her  with  fore- 
boding. 

But  the  moment  she  was  alone  with  him  she  forgot  all  but 
the  one  tremendous  fact  of  his  presence,  for  with  the  closing 
of  the  door  he  had  her  in  his  arms. 

She  clung  to  him  desperately  close,  feeling  as  one  strug- 
gling in  deep  waters,  caught  in  a  great  current  that  would 
bear  her  swiftly,  irresistibly, — whither? 

He  laughed  at  her  trembling  with  careless  amusement. 
' '  What,  still  scared,  my  brown  elf  ?  Where  is  your  old  daring  ? 
Aren't  you  allowed  to  have  any  spirit  at  all  in  this  house?" 

She  answered  him  incoherently,  straining  to  keep  her  face 
hidden  out  of  reach  of  his  upturning  hand.  "No, — no,  it's 


280  Greatheart 

not   that.     You  don't  understand.     It's  all  so  new — so 
strange.     Eustace,  please — please,  don't  kiss  me  yet!" 

He  laughed  again,  but  he  did  not  press  her  for  the  mo- 
ment. "Your  father  and  I  have  had  no  end  of  a  talk,"  he 
said.  "Do  you  know  what  has  come  of  it?  Would  you 
like  to  know?" 

"Yes,  "  she  murmured  shyly. 

He  was  caressing  the  soft  dark  ringlets  that  clustered 
about  her  neck. 

"About  getting  married,  little  sweetheart,"  he  said. 
"You  want  to  get  it  over  quickly  and  so  do  I.  There's  no 
reason  why  we  shouldn't  in  fact.  How  about  the  beginning 
of  next  month?  How  about  April ?" 

' '  Oh,  Eustace ! ' '  She  clung  to  him  closer  still ;  she  had  no 
words.  But  still  that  sense  of  being  caught,  of  being  borne 
against  her  will,  possessed  her,  filling  her  with  dread  rather 
than  ecstasy.  Whither  was  she  going?  Ah,  whither? 

He  went  on  with  his  easy  self-assurance,  speaking  as  if 
he  held  the  whole  world  at  his  disposal.  "We  will  go  South 
for  the  honeymoon.  I've  crowds  of  things  to  show  you — 
Rome,  Naples,  Venice.  After  that  we'll  come  back  and  go 
for  that  summer  trip  in  the  yacht  I  promised  you. " 

"And  Isabel  too — and  Scott?"  asked  Dinah,  in  muffled 
accents. 

He  laughed  over  her  head,  as  at  the  naive  prattling  of  a 
child.  "What!  On  our  honeymoon?  Oh,  hardly,  I 
think.  I'll  see  to  it  that  you're  not  bored.  And  look  here, 
my  elf !  I  won't  have  you  shy  with  me  any  more.  Is  that 
understood?  I'm  not  an  ogre. " 

"I  think  you  are — rather,"  murmured  Dinah. 

He  bent  over  her,  his  lips  upon  her  neck.  "You — 
midget!  And  you  think  I'm  going  to  devour  you?  Well, 
perhaps  I  shall  some  day  if  you  go  on  running  away. 
There's  a  terrible  threat !  Now  hold  up  your  head,  Daphne 
— Daphne — and  let  me  have  that  kiss!" 


Wedding  Arrangements  281 

She  hesitated  a  while  longer,  and  then  feeling  his  patience 
ebbing  she  lifted  her  face  impulsively  to  his.  "You  will 
be  good  to  me?  Promise!  Promise!"  she  pleaded  tremu- 
lously. 

He  was  laughing  still,  but  his  eyes  were  aflame.  "That 
depends, "  he  declared.  "  I  can't  answer  for  myself  when  you 
run  away.  Come!  When  are  you  going  to  kiss  me  first? 
Isn't  it  time  you  began?" 

She  slipped  her  arms  about  his  neck.  Her  face  was 
burning.  "I  will  now,"  she  said. 

Yet  the  moment  her  lips  touched  his,  the  old  wild  fear 
came  upon  her.  She  made  a  backward  movement  of 
shrinking. 

He  caught  her  to  him.  "Daphne!"  he  said,  and  kissed 
her  quivering  throat. 

She  did  not  resist  him,  but  her  arms  fell  apart,  and  the 
red  blush  swiftly  died.  When  he  released  her,  she  fell  back 
a  step  with  eyes  fast  closed,  and  in  a  moment  her  hands 
went  up  as  though  to  shield  face  and  neck  from  the  scorching 
of  a  furnace. 

He  watched  her,  a  slight  frown  drawing  his  brows.  The 
flame  still  glittered  in  his  eyes,  but  his  mouth  was  hard. 
"Look  here,  child !  Don't  be  silly ! "  he  said.  "  If  you  treat 
me  like  a  monster,  I  shall  behave  like  one.  I'm  made  that 
way." 

His  voice  was  curt ;  it  held  displeasure.  Dinah  uncovered 
her  face  and  looked  at  him. 

"Oh,  you're  angry!"  she  said,  in  tragic  accents. 

He  laughed  at  that.  "About  as  angry  as  I  could  get 
with  a  piece  of  thistledown.  But  you  know,  you're  not  very 
wise,  my  Daphne.  You've  got  it  in  you  to  madden  me,  but 
it's  a  risky  thing  to  do.  Now  see  here!  I've  brought 
you  something  to  make  those  moss-agate  eyes  of  yours 
shine.  Can  you  guess  what  it  is?" 
•  His  hand  was  held  out  to  her.  She  laid  her  own  within 


282  Greatheart 

it  with  conscious  reluctance.     He  drew  her  into  the  circle  of 
his  arm,  pressing  her  to  him. 

She  leaned  her  head  against  him  with  a  bewildered  sense 
of  self-reproach.  "I'm  sorry  I'm  silly,  Eustace,"  she 
murmured  "I  expect  I'm  made  that  way  too.  Don't — 
don't  take  any  notice!" 

He  touched  her  forehead  lightly  with  his  lips.  "You'll 
get  over  it,  sweetheart, "  he  said.  ' '  It  won't  matter  so  much 
after  we're  married.  I  can  do  as  I  like  with  you  then. " 

"Oh,  I  shan't  like  that,"  said  Dinah  quickly. 

His  arm  pressed  her  closer.  "Yes,  you  will.  I'll  give 
you  no  end  of  a  good  time.  Now,  sweetheart,  give  me  that 
little  hand  of  yours  again !  No,  the  left !  There !  I  won- 
der if  it's  small  enough.  Rather  a  loose  fit,  eh?  How  do 
you  like  it?" 

He  was  fitting  a  ring  on  to  the  third  finger.  Dinah  looked 
and  was  dazzled.  "Oh,  Eustace, — diamonds!"  she  said, 
in  an  awed  whisper. 

"The  best  I  could  find, "  he  told  her,  with  princely  arro- 
gance. "I  hunted  through  Bond  Street  for  it  this  morning. 
Will  it  do?" 

"You  went  up  on  purpose?  Oh,  Eustace!"  she  laid  her 
cheek  with  a  winning  movement  against  his  hand.  "You 
are  too  good!  You  are  much  too  good!" 

He  laughed  carelessly.  "I'm  glad  you're  satisfied.  It's 
a  bond,  remember.  You  must  wear  it  always — till  I  give 
you  a  wedding-ring  instead. " 

She  lifted  her  face  and  looked  at  him  with  shining  eyes. 
"I  shall  love  to  wear  it,"  she  said.  "But  I  expect  I  shall 
have  to  keep  it  for  best.  Mother  wouldn't  let  me  wear  it 
always." 

"Never  mind  what  your  mother  says!"  he  returned. 
"It's  what  I  say  that  matters  now.  We're  going  to  have 
you  to  stay  at  Willowmount  in  a  few  days.  Isabel  is 
arranging  it  with  your  mother  now." 


Wedding  Arrangements  283 

"Your home!  Oh,  how  lovely!"  Genuine  delight  was  in 
Dinah's  voice.  "Scott  is  there,  isn't  he?" 

He  frowned  again.  "Bother  Scott!  You're  coming  to 
see  me — no  one  else. " 

She  flushed.  "Oh  yes,  I  know.  And  I  shall  love  it — 
I  shall  love  it!  But — do  you  think  I  shall  be  allowed  to 
come?" 

"You  must  come,"  he  said  imperiously. 

But  Dinah  looked  dubious.  "I  expect  I  shall  be  wanted 
at  home  now.  And  I  don't  believe  we  shall  get  married  in 
April  either.  I've  been  away  so  long." 

He  laughed,  flicking  her  cheek.  "Haven't  I  always  told 
you  that  where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way?  If  necessary, 
I  can  run  away  with  you." 

She  shook  her  head.  "Oh  no!  I'd  rather  not.  And  if 
—if  we're  really  going  to  be  married  in  April,  I  ought  to  stay 
at  home  to  get  ready." 

"Nonsense!"  he  said  carelessly.  "You  can  do  that 
from  Willowmount.  Isabel  will  help  you.  It's  less  than 
an  hour's  run  to  town. " 

Dinah  opened  her  eyes  wide.  "But  I  shan't  shop  in  town. 
I  shall  have  to  make  all  my  things.  I  always  do." 

He  laughed  again  easily,  indulgently.  "That  simpli- 
fies matters.  You  can  do  that  anywhere.  What  are  you 
going  to  be  married  in?  White  cotton?" 

She  laughed  with  him.  "I  would  love  to  have  a  real 
grand  wedding,"  she  said,  "the  sort  of  wedding  Rose  de 
Vigne  will  have,  with  bridesmaids  and  flowers  and  crowds 
and  crowds  of  people.  Of  course  I  know  it  can't  be  done." 
She  gave  a  little  sigh.  "But  I  would  love  it.  I  would 
love  it." 

He  was  laughing  still.  "Why  can't  it  be  done?  Who's 
going  to  prevent  it?" 

Dinah  had  become  serious.  "  Dad  hasn't  money  enough  for 
one  thing.  And  then  there's  Mother.  She  wouldn't  do  it. " 


284  Greatheart 

"Ho!  Wouldn't  she?  I've  a  notion  she'd  enjoy  it  even 
more  than  you  would.  If  you  want  a  smart  wedding, 
you'd  better  have  it  in  town.  Then  the  de  Vignes  and 
everyone  else  can  come." 

"Oh  no!  I  want  it  to  be  here."  Dinah's  eyes  began  to 
shine.  "Dad  knows  lots  of  people  round  about — County 
people  too.  Those  are  the  sort  of  people  I'd  like  to  come. 
Even  Mother  might  like  that,"  she  added  reflectively. 

"You  prefer  a  big  splash  in  your  own  little  pond  to  a 
small  one  in  a  good-sized  lake,  is  that  it?"  questioned 
Eustace.  "Well,  have  it  your  own  way,  my  child!  But  I 
shouldn't  make  many  clothes  if  I  were  you.  We  will  shop 
in  Paris  after  we  are  married,  and  then  you  can  get  whatever 
you  fancy." 

Dinah's  eyes  fairly  danced  at  the  thought.  "  I  shall  love 
that.  I'll  tell  Daddy,  shall  I,  to  keep  all  his  money  for  the 
wedding,  and  then  we  can  buy  the  clothes  afterwards;  that 
is,  if  you  can  afford  it,"  she  added  quickly.  "I  ought  not 
to  let  you  really." 

"You  can't  prevent  me  doing  anything,"  he  returned, 
his  hand  pressing  her  shoulder.  "No  one  can." 

She  leaned  her  head  momentarily  against  his  arm. 
"You — you  wouldn't  want  to  do  anything  that  anyone 
didn't  like,"  she  murmured  shyly. 

"Shouldn't  I?"  he  said  and  for  a  moment  his  mouth 
was  grim.  "I  am  not  accustomed  to  being  regarded  as  an 
amiable  nonentity,  I  assure  you.  It's  settled  then,  is  it? 
The  first  week  in  April  ?  And  you  are  to  come  to  us  for  at 
least  a  fortnight  beforehand." 

Dinah  nodded,  her  head  bent.  "  All  right, — if  Mother 
doesn't  mind." 

"What  would  happen  if  she  did? "  he  asked  curiously. 

"It  just  wouldn't  be  done,"  she  made  answer. 

"Wouldn't  it?     Not  if  you  insisted?" 

"I  couldn't  insist,"  she  said,  her  voice  very  low. 


Wedding  Arrangements  285 

"Why  couldn't  you?  I  should  have  thought  you  had  a 
will  of  your  own.  Don't  you  ever  assert  yourself?" 

"Against  her?  No,  never!"  Dinah  gave  a  little  shudder. 
"Don't  let's  talk  of  it!"  she  said.  "Isn't  it  time  to  go 
back?  I  believe  I  ought  to  be  clearing  away." 

He  detained  her  for  a  moment.  "You're  not  going  to 
work  like  a  nigger  when  you  are  married  to  me, "  he  said. 

She  smiled  up  at  him,  a  merry,  dimpling  smile.  "  Oh  no, 
I  shall  just  enjoy  myself  then — like  Rose  de  Vigne.  I  shall 
be  much  too  grand  to  work.  There!  I  really  must  go  back. 
Thank  you  again  ever  so  much — ever  so  much — for  the 
lovely  ring.  I  hope  you'll  never  find  out  how  unworthy 
I  am  of  it." 

She  drew  his  head  down  with  quivering  courage  and 
bestowed  a  butterfly  kiss  upon  his  cheek.  And  then  in  a 
second  she  was  gone  from  his  hold,  gone  like  a  woodland  elf 
with  a  tinkle  of  laughter  and  the  skipping  of  fairy  feet. 

Sir  Eustace  followed  her  flight  with  his  eyes  only,  but 
in  those  eyes  was  the  leaping  fire  of  a  passion  that  burned 
around  her  in  an  ever-narrowing  circle.  She  knew  that  it 
was  there,  but  she  would  not  look  back  to  see  it.  For  deep 
in  her  heait  she  feared  that  flame  as  she  feared  nothing  else 
on  earth. 


CHAPTER  III 

DESPAIR 

"  I F  I  had  known  that  this  was  going  to  happen,  I  would 

1  never  have  troubled  to  cultivate  their  acquaintance," 
said  Lady  Grace  fretfully.  "I  knew  of  course  that  that 
artful  little  minx  was  running  after  the  man,  but  that  he 
could  ever  be  foolish  enough  to  let  himself  be  caught  in  such 
an  obvious  trap  was  a  possibility  that  I  never  seriously 
contemplated." 

"It  doesn't  matter  to  me,"  said  Rose. 

She  had  said  it  many  times  before  with  the  same  rather 
forced  smile.  It  was  not  a  subject  that  she  greatly  cared  to 
discuss.  The  news  of  Dinah's  conquest  had  come  like  a 
thunderbolt.  In  common  with  her  mother,  she  had  never 
seriously  thought  that  Sir  Eustace  could  be  so  foolish. 
But  since  the  utterly  unexpected  had  come  to  pass,  it  seemed 
to  her  futile  to  talk  about  it.  Dinah  had  secured  the  finest 
prize  within  reach  for  the  moment,  and  there  was  no  dis- 
puting the  fact. 

"The  wedding  is  to  take  place  so  soon  too,"  lamented 
Lady  Grace.  "That,  I  have  no  doubt,  is  the  doing  of  that 
scheming  mother  of  hers.  What  shall  we  do  about  going 
to  it,  Rose?  Do  you  want  to  go,  dear?" 

"Not  in  the  least,  but  I  am  going  all  the  same."  Rose 
was  still  smiling,  and  her  eyes  were  fixed.  "I  think,  you 
know,  Mother,"  she  said,  "that  we  might  do  worse  than 
ask  Sir  Eustace  and  his  party  to  stay  here  for  the  event. " 

286 


Despair  287 

"  My  dear  Rose! "  Lady  Grace  gazed  at  her  in  amazement. 

Rose  continued  to  stare  into  space.  "  It  would  be  much 
more  convenient  for  them,"  she  said.  "And  really  we 
have  no  reason  for  allowing  people  to  imagine  that  we  are 
other  than  pleased  over  the  arrangement.  We  shall  not 
be  going  to  town  before  Easter,  so  it  seems  to  me  that  it 
would  be  only  neighbourly  to  invite  Sir  Eustace  to  stay 
at  the  Court  for  the  wedding.  Great  Mallowes  is  not  a 
particularly  nice  place  to  put  up  in,  and  this  would  be  far 
handier  for  him. " 

Lady  Grace  slowly  veiled  her  astonishment.  <lOf  course, 
dear,  if  you  think  so,  it  might  be  managed.  We  will  talk  to 
your  father  about  it,  and  if  he  approves  I  will  write  to  Sir 
Eustace — or  get  him  to  do  so.  I  do  not  myself  consider 
that  Sir  Eustace  has  behaved  at  all  nicely.  He  was  most 
cavalier  about  the  Hunt  Ball.  But  if  you  wish  to  overlook 
it — well,  I  shall  not  put  any  difficulty  in  the  way. " 

"  I  think  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  do, "  said  Rose  some- 
what enigmatically. 

The  letter  that  reached  Sir  Eustace  two  days  later  was 
penned  by  the  Colonel's  hand,  and  contained  a  brief  but 
cordial  invitation  to  him  and  his  following  to  stay  at  Perry- 
thorpe  Court  for  the  wedding. 

He  read  it  with  a  careless  smile  and  tossed  it  over  to 
Scott.  "Here  is  magnanimity,"  he  commented.  "Shall 
we  accept  the  coals  of  fire?" 

Scott  read  with  all  gravity  and  laid  it  down.  "If  you 
want  my  opinion,  I  should  say  'No, ' "  he  said. 

"  Why  would  you  say  No  ? "  There  was  a  lazy  challenge 
in  the  question,  a  provocative  gleam  in  Sir  Eustace's  blue 
eyes. 

Scott  smiled  a  little.  "For  one  thing  I  shouldn't  enjoy 
the  coals  of  fire.  For  another,  I  shouldn't  care  to  be  at  too 
close  quarters  with  the  beautiful  Miss  de  Vigne  again,  if'  I 
had  your  very  highly  susceptible  temperament.  And  for  a 


288  Greatheart 

third,  I  believe  Isabel  would  prefer  to  stay  at  Great  Mal- 
lowes. " 

"You're  mighty  clever,  my  son,  aren't  you?"  said 
Eustace  with  a  supercilious  twist  of  the  lips.  "But — as  it 
chances — not  one  of  those  excellent  reasons  appeals  to  me. " 

"Very  well  then, "  said  Scott,  with  the  utmost  patience. 
"It  is  up  to  you  to  accept." 

"Why should  Isabel  prefer  Great  Mallowes?"  demanded 
Sir  Eustace.  "She  knows  the  de  Vignes.  It  is  far  better 
for  her  to  see  people,  and  there  is  more  comfort  in  a  private 
house  than  in  a  hotel.  " 

"Quite  so, "  said  Scott.  "I  am  sure  she  will  fall  in  with 
your  wishes  in  this  respect,  whatever  they  are.  Will  you 
write  to  Colonel  de  Vigne,  or  shall  I?" 

"You  can — and  accept,  "  returned  Sir  Eustace  imperially. 

Scott  took  a  sheet  of  paper  without  further  words. 

His  brother  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  his  black  brows 
slightly  drawn,  and  contemplated  him  as  he  did  it. 

"By  the  way,  Scott,"  he  said,  after  a  moment,  "Dinah's 
staying  here  need  not  make  any  difference  to  you  in  any 
way.  She  can't  expect  to  have  you  at  her  beck  and  call 
as  she  had  in  Switzerland.  You  must  make  that  clear  to 
her." 

"Very  well,  old  chap."  Scott  spoke  without  raising  his 
head.  ' '  You're  going  to  meet  her  at  the  station,  I  suppose  ? " 

"Almost  immediately,  yes."  Eustace  got  up  with  a 
movement  of  suppressed  impatience.  "We  shall  have  tea 
in  Isabel's  room.  You  needn't  turn  up.  I'll  tell  them  to 
send  yours  in  here. " 

"Oh,  don't  trouble!  I'm  going  to  turn  up,"  very 
calmly  Scott  made  rejoinder.  He  had  already  begun  to 
write;  his  hand  moved  steadily  across  the  sheet. 

Sir  Eustace's  frown  deepened.  "You  won't  catch  the 
post  with  those  letters  if  you  do. " 

Scott  looked  up  at  last,  and  his  eyes  were  as  steady  as 


Despair  289 

his  hand  had 'been.     "That's  my  business,  old  chap,"  he 
said  quietly.     "  Don't  you  worry  yourself  about  that ! " 

There  was  a  hint  of  ferocity  about  Sir  Eustace  as  he  met 
that  steadfast  look.  He  stood  motionless  for  a  moment  or 
two,  then  flung  round  on  his  heel.  Scott  returned  to  his 
work  with  the  composure  characteristic  of  him,  and  almost 
immediately  the  banging  of  the  door  told  of  his  brother's 
departure. 

Then  for  a  second  his  hand  paused;  he  passed  the  other 
across  his  eyes  with  the  old  gesture  of  weariness,  and  a  short, 
hard  sigh  came  from  him  ere  he  bent  again  to  his  task. 

Sir  Eustace  strode  across  the  hall  with  the  frown  still 
drawing  his  brows.  An  open  car  was  waiting  at  the  door, 
but  ere  he  went  to  it  he  turned  aside  and  knocked 
peremptorily  at  another  door. 

He  opened  without  waiting  for  a  reply  and  entered  a 
long,  low-ceiled  room  through  which  the  rays  of  the  after- 
noon sun  were  pouring.  Isabel,  lying  on  a  couch  between 
fire  and  window,  turned  her  head  towards  him. 

"Haven't  you  started  yet?  Surely  it  is  getting  very 
late,"  she  said  in  her  low,  rather  monotonous  voice. 

He  came  to  her.  "I  prefer  starting  a  bit  late, "  he  said. 
' '  You  will  have  tea  ready  when  we  return  ? " 

"Certainly,"  she  said. 

He  stood  looking  down  at  her  intently.  "Are  you  all 
right  to-day?"  he  asked  abruptly. 

A  faint  colour  rose  in  her  cheeks.  "I  am — as  usual," 
she  said. 

"What  does  that  mean?"  Curtly  he  put  the  question. 
"Why  don't  you  go  out  more?  Why  don't  3'ou  get  old 
Lister  to  make  you  up  a  tonic?" 

She  smiled   a   little,    but   there   was   slight   uneasiness 
behind  her  smile.     Her  eyes  had  the  remote  look  of  one 
who  watches  the  far  horizon.     "My  dear  Eustace,"  she 
said,  "cui  bono?" 
19 


290  Greatheart 

He  stooped  suddenly  over  her.  "  It  is  because  you  won't 
make  the  effort,"  he  said,  speaking  with  grim  emphasis. 
"You're  letting  yourself  go  again,  I  know;  I've  been  watch- 
ing you  for  the  past  week.  And  by  heaven,  Isabel,  you 
shan't  do  it!  Scott  may  be  fool  enough  to  let  you,  but  I'm 
not.  You've  only  been  home  a  week,  and  you've  been 
steadily  losing  ground  ever  since  you  got  back.  What  is  it  ? 
What's  the  matter  with  you?  Tell  me  what  is  the  matter ! " 

So  insistent  was  his  tone,  so  almost  menacing  his  atti- 
tude, that  Isabel  shrank  from  him  with  a  gesture  too  swift 
to  repress.  The  old  pathetic  furtive  look  was  in  her  eyes 
as  she  made  reply. 

"I  am  very  sorry.  I  don't  see  how  I  can  help  it.  I — I 
am  getting  old,  you  know.  That  is  the  chief  reason." 

"You're  talking  nonsense,  my  dear  girl."  Impatiently 
Eustace  broke  in.  "You  are  just  coming  into  your 
prime.  I  won't  have  you  ruin  your  life  like  this.  Do  you 
hear  me?  I  won't.  If  you  don't  rouse  yourself  I  will  find 
a  means  to  rouse  you.  You  are  simply  drifting  now — 
simply  drifting." 

"But  into  my  desired  haven,"  whispered  Isabel,  with  a 
piteous  quiver  of  the  lips. 

He  straightened  himself  with  a  gesture  of  exasperation. 
"You  are  wasting  yourself  over  a  myth,  an  illusion.  On  my 
soul,  Isabel,  what  a  wicked  waste  it  is!  Have  you  for- 
gotten the  days  when  you  and  I  roamed  over  the  world 
together?  Have  you  forgotten  Egypt  and  all  we  did  there? 
Life  was  worth  having  then." 

"Ah!  I  thought  so."  She  met  his  look  with  eyes  that 
did  not  seem  to  see  him.  "We  were  children  then,  Eus- 
tace," she  said,  "children  playing  on  the  sands.  But  the 
great  tide  caught  us.  You  breasted  the  waves,  but  I  was 
broken  and  thrown  aside.  I  could  never  play  on  the  sands 
again.  I  can  only  lie  and  wait  for  the  tide  to  come  again 
and  float  me  away." 


Despair  291 

He  clenched  his  hands.  "Do  you  think  I  would  let  you 
go — like  that?"  he  said. 

"  It  is  the  only  kindness  you  can  do  me, "  she  answered  in 
her  low  voice  of  pleading. 

He  swung  round  to  go.  "I  curse  the  day,"  he  said 
very  bitterly,  "that  you  ever  met  Basil  Everard!  I  curse 
his  memory!" 

She  flinched  at  the  words  as  if  they  had  been  a  blow.  Her 
face  turned  suddenly  grey.  She  clasped  her  hands  very 
tightly  together,  saying  no  word. 

He  went  to  the  door  and  paused,  his  back  towards  her. 
"I  came  in,"  he  said  then,  "to  tell  you  that  the  de  Vignes 
have  offered  to  put  us  up  at  their  place  for  the  wedding. 
And  I  have  accepted." 

He  waited  for  some  rejoinder  but  she  made  none.  It 
was  as  if  she  had  not  heard.  Her  eyes  had  the  impotent, 
stricken  look  of  one  who  has  searched  dim  distances  for 
some  beloved  object — and  searched  in  vain. 

He  did  not  glance  round.  His  temper  was  on  edge. 
With  a  fierce  movement  he  pulled  open  the  door  and  de- 
parted. And  behind  him  like  a  veil  there  fell  the  silence  of 
a  great  despair. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   NEW   HOME 

A  SMALL  figure  was  already  standing  outside  the  station 
/~V  when  the  car  Sir  Eustace  drove  whirled  round  the 
corner  of  the  station  yard.  He  was  greeted  by  the  waving 
of  a  vigorous  hand,  as  he  dashed  up,  grinding  on  the  brakes 
in  the  last  moment  as  was  his  impetuous  custom.  Every- 
one knew  him  from  afar  by  his  driving,  and  the  village 
children  were  wont  to  scatter  like  rabbits  at  his  approach. 

Dinah  however  stood  her  ground  with  a  confidence  which 
his  wild  performance  hardly  justified,  and  the  moment  he 
alighted  sprang  to  meet  him  with  the  eagerness  of  a  child 
escaped  from  school. 

"Oh,  Eustace,  it  is  fun  coming  here!  I  was  so  horribly 
afraid  something  would  stop  me  just  at  the  last.  But 
everything  has  turned  out  all  right,  and  we  are  going  to 
have  ever  such  a  fine  wedding  with  crowds  and  crowds 
of  people.  Did  you  know  Isabel  wrote  and  said  she  would 
give  me  my  wedding  dress?  Isn't  it  dear  of  her?  How  is 
she  now?" 

"Where  is  your  luggage?"  said  Eustace. 

She  pointed  to  a  diminutive  dress-basket  behind  her. 
"That's  all  there  is.  I'm  not  to  stay  more  than  a  week  as 
the  time  is  getting  so  short  I  don't  feel  as  if  I  shall  ever  be 
ready  as  it  is.  I've  never  been  so  rushed  before.  I  some- 
times wonder  if  it  wouldn't  be  almost  better  to  put  it  off  a 
few  weeks." 

292 


The  New  Home  293 

"Jump  up!"  commanded  Eustace,  with  a  curt  sign  to  a 
porter  to  pick  up  his  fiancee's  humble  impediments. 

Dinah  sprang  up  beside  him  and  slipped  a  shy  hand  onto 
his  knee.  "You  look  more  like  Apollo  than  ever,"  she 
whispered,  awe-struck,  "when  you  frown  like  that.  Is 
anything  the  matter?" 

His  brow  cleared  magically  at  her  action.  "I  began  to 
think  I  should  have  to  come  down  to  Perrythorpe  and 
fetch  you,"  he  said,  grasping  the  little  nervous  fin- 
gers. "I  thought  you  meant  to  give  me  the  slip — if  you 
could." 

"Oh  no!"  said  Dinah,  shocked  at  the  suggestion.  "I 
wanted  to  come;  only — only — I  couldn't  be  spared  sooner. 
It  wasn't  my  fault,"  she  urged  pleadingly.  "Truly  it 
wasn't!" 

He  smiled  upon  her.  "All  right, — Daphne.  I'll  for- 
give you  this  time,"  he  said.  "But  now  I've  got  you, 
my  nymph  of  the  woods,  I  am  not  going  to  part  with  you 
again  in  a  hurry.  And  if  you  talk  of  putting  off  the  wedding 
again,  I'll  simply  run  away  with  you.  So  now  you  know 
what  to  expect." 

Dinah  uttered  her  giddy  little  laugh.  The  excitement  of 
this  visit — the  first  she  had  ever  paid  to  anyone — had 
turned  her  head.  "  Do  you  know  Rose  is  actually  going  to 
be  my  chief  bridesmaid? "  she  said.  "  Isn't  that — magnani- 
mous of  her?  She  is  pretending  to  be  pleased,  but  I  know 
she  is  frightfully  jealous  underneath.  The  other  brides- 
maid is  the  Vicar's  daughter.  She  is  quite  old,  nearly  thirty 
but  I  couldn't  think  of  anyone  else,  except  the  infant  school- 
mistress, and  they  wouldn't  let  me  have  her.  I  shall 
feel  rather  small,  shan't  I?  Even  Rose  is  twenty-five.  I 
wonder  if  I  shall  feel  grown  up  when  I'm  married.  Do 
you  think  I  shall?" 

"Not  till  you  cease  to  be — Daphne,"  said  Sir  Eustace 
enigmatically. 


294  Greatheart 

He  started  the  car  with  the  words,  and  they  shot  forward 
with  a  suddenness  that  made  Dinah  hold  her  breath. 

But  in  a  few  moments  she  was  chattering  again,  for  she 
was  never  quiet  for  long.  How  was  Scott?  Was  he  at 
home  ?  And  Isabel — he  hadn't  told  her.  She  did  hope  dear 
Isabel  was  keeping  better.  Was  she?  Was  she? 

She  pressed  the  question  as  he  did  not  seem  inclined  to 
answer  it,  and  saw  again  the  frown  that  had  darkened  his 
handsome  face  upon  arrival. 

"Do  tell  me!"  she  begged.     "Isn't  she  so  well?" 

And  at  last  with  the  curtness  of  speech  which  always 
denoted  displeasure  with  him,  he  made  reply. 

"No,  she  has  gone  back  a  good  deal  since  she  got  home. 
She  lies  on  a  sofa  and  broods  all  day  long.  I  am  looking  to 
you  to  wake  her  up.  For  heaven's  sake  be  as  lively  as  you 
can!" 

"Oh,  poor  Isabel!"  Quick  concern  was  in  Dinah's 
voice.  "What  is  it,  do  you  think?  Doesn't  the  place 
suit  her?" 

"Heaven  knows, "  he  answered  gloomily,  "I  have  a  house 
down  at  Heath-on-Sea  where  we  keep  the  yacht,  but  I 
doubt  if  it  would  do  her  much  good  to  go  there  this  time 
of  the  year.  She  and  Scott  might  try  it  later — after  the 
wedding." 

"Couldn't  we  all  go  there?"  suggested  Dinah  ingenu- 
ously. 

He  gave  her  a  keen  glance.  "For  the  honeymoon?  No 
I  don't  think  so, "  he  said. 

"Only  for  the  first  part  of  it,"  said  Dinah  coaxingly; 
"till  Isabel  felt  better. " 

He  uttered  a  brief  laugh.  "No,  thanks,  Daphne. 
We're  going  to  be  alone — quite  alone,  for  the  first  part  of 
our  honeymoon.  I  am  going  to  take  you  in  this  car  to  the 
most  out-of-the-way  corner  in  England,  where — even  if 
you  run  away — there'll  be  nowhere  to  run  to.  And  there 


The  New  Home  295 

you'll  stay  till — "  he  paused  a  moment — "you  realize 
that  you  are  all  mine  for  ever  and  ever,  till  in  fact,  you've 
shed  all  your  baby  nonsense  and  become  a  wise  little 
married  woman." 

Dinah  gave  a  sudden  sharp  shiver,  and  pulled  her  coat 
closer  about  her. 

He  glanced  at  her  again.  "You'll  like  it  better  than 
being  a  maid-of -all-work, "  he  said,  with  his  swift,  trans- 
forming smile. 

She  smiled  back  at  him  with  ready  responsiveness.  "Oh, 
I  shall!  I'm  sure  I  shall.  I've  always  wanted  to  be 
married — always.  Only — it'll  seem  a  little  funny,  just  at 
first.  You  won't  get  impatient  with  me,  will  you,  if — if 
sometimes  I  forget  how  to  behave  ? " 

He  laughed  and  abruptly  slackened  speed.  They  were 
running  down  a  narrow  lane  bordered  with  bare  trees 
through  which  the  spring  sunshine  filtered  down.  On  a 
brown  upland  to  one  side  of  them  a  plough  was  being 
driven.  On  the  other  the  ground  sloped  away  to  deep 
meadows  where  wound  a  willow-banked  river. 

The  car  stopped.     "How  pretty  it  is ! "  said  Dinah. 

And  then  very  suddenly  she  found  that  it  was  not  for  the 
sake  of  the  view  that  he  had  brought  her  to  a  standstill 
in  that  secluded  place.  For  he  caught  her  to  him  with  the 
hot  ardour  she  had  learned  to  dread  and  kissed  with  passion 
the  burning  face  she  sought  to  hide. 

She  struggled  for  a  few  seconds  like  a  captured  bird,  but 
in  the  end  she  yielded  palpitating,  as  she  had  yielded  so 
often  before,  mutely  bearing  that  which  her  whole  soul 
clamoured  inarticulately  to  escape.  When  he  let  her  go,  her 
cheeks  were  on  fire.  He  was  laughing,  but  she  was  on  the 
verge  of  tears. 

He  started  on  again  without  words,  and  in  a  very  brief 
space  they  were  racing  forward  at  terrific  speed,  seeming 
scarcely  to  touch  the  ground  so  rapid  was  their  progress. 


296  Greatheart 

Dinah  sat  with  her  two  hands  clutched  upon  her  hat, 
thankful  for  the  cold  rush  of  air  that  gave  her  relief  after 
the  fiery  intensity  of  those  unsparing  kisses.  Her  heart  was 
beating  in  great  thumps.  Somehow  the  fierceness  of  him 
always  exceeded  either  memory  or  expectation.  He  was  so 
terribly  strong,  so  disconcertingly  absolute  in  his  demands 
upon  her.  And  every  time  he  seemed  to  take  more. 

She  hardly  noticed  anything  further  of  the  country 
through  which  they  passed.  Her  agitation  possessed  her 
overwhelmingly.  She  felt  exhausted,  unnerved,  very 
curiously  ashamed.  It  was  good  to  have  so  princely  a 
lover,  but  his  tempestuous  wooing  was  altogether  too 
much  for  her.  She  wondered  how  Rose,  the  sedate  and 
composed  beauty,  would  have  met  those  wild  gusts  of 
passion.  They  would  not  have  disconcerted  her;  nothing 
ever  did.  She  would  probably  have  endured  all  with  a 
smile.  No  form  of  adoration  could  come  amiss  with  her. 
She  did  not  fancy  that  Rose's  heart  was  capable  of  beating 
at  more  than  the  usual  speed.  Her  very  blushes  savoured  of 
a  delicate  complacency  that  enhanced  her  beauty  without 
disturbing  her  serenity.  A  great  wave  of  envy  went  through 
Dinah.  "Ah,  why  had  she  not  been  blessed  with  such  a 
temperament  as  that?  " 

His  voice  broke  in  upon  her  disjointed  meditations. 
' '  Well,  Daphne  ?  Feeling  better  ? ' ' 

She  glanced  at  him  with  the  confused  consciousness 
that  she  dared  not  meet  his  eyes.  She  was  glad  that  he 
was  laughing,  but  the  turbulent  feeling  of  uncertainty 
that  his  nearness  always  brought  to  her  was  with  her  still. 
She  was  as  one  who  had  passed  by  a  raging  fire,  and  the 
scorching  heat  of  the  flame  yet  remained  with  her.  Breath- 
lessly she  spoke.  "I  can't  think — or  do  anything — in  this 
wind.  Are  we  nearly  there?" 

"We  are  there, "  he  made  answer. 

And  she  discovered  that  which  in  her  distress  of  mind  she 


The  New  Home  297 

had  failed  to  notice.  They  were  running  smoothly  along  a 
private  avenue  of  fir-trees  towards  an  old  stone  mansion 
that  stood  on  a  slope  overlooking  the  long  river  valley. 

She  drew  a  hard  breath.  "But  this  is  better — ever  so 
much — than  the  Court!"  she  said. 

"Your  future  home,  my  queen ! "  said  Sir  Eustace  royally. 

She  breathed  again  deeply,  wonderingly.  "Is  it  real?" 
she  said. 

He  laughed.  "I  almost  think  so.  You  see  that  other 
house  right  away  in  the  distance,  across  that  further  slope  ? 
That  is  the  Dower  House  where  Isabel  and  Scott  are  to  live 
when  we  are  married. " 

"Oh!"  There  was  a  quick  note  of  disappointment  in 
Dinah's  voice.  "I  thought  they  would  live  with  us." 

"I  don't  know  why,"  said  Sir  Eustace  with  a  touch  of 
sharpness,  and  then  softening  almost  immediately,  "It's 
practically  the  same  thing,  my  sprite  of  the  woods.  But  I 
wish  you  to  be  mistress  in  your  own  home — when  we  do 
settle  down,  which  won't  be  at  present.  For  we're  not 
coming  back  from  our  honeymoon  till  you  have  learnt  that 
I  am  the  only  person  in  the  world  that  matters." 

Again  a  slight  shiver  caught  Dinah,  but  she  repressed  it 
instantly.  "I  expect  it  won't  take  me  very  long  to  learn 
that,  Apollo,"  she  said,  with  her  shy,  fleeting  smile. 

And  then  they  glided  up  to  the  wide  steps  of  his  home  and 
the  door  opened  to  receive  them,  showing  Scott — Scott  her 
friend — standing  in  the  opening,  awaiting  her. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    WATCHER 

SHE  sprang  to  meet  him  with  a  cry  of  delight,  both 
hands  extended. 

"  Oh,  it  is  good  to  see  you  again !  It  is  good !  It  is  good !" 
she  panted.  ' '  Why  didn't  you  come  to  Perrythorpe  ?  I  did 
want  you  there!" 

He  grasped  her  hands  very  tightly.  His  pale  eyes 
smiled  their  welcome,  but — it  came  to  her  afterwards — he 
scarcely  said  a  word  in  greeting.  In  a  second  or  two  he 
set  her  free. 

"Come  and  see  Isabel!"  he  said. 

She  went  with  him  eagerly,  forgetful  of  Sir  Eustace 
striding  in  her  wake.  As  Scott  opened  the  door  of  Isabel's 
room,  she  pressed  forward,  and  the  next  moment  she  was 
kneeling  by  Isabel's  side,  gathered  close,  close  to  her  breast 
in  a  silence  that  was  deeper  than  any  speech. 

Dinah's  arms  clung  fast  about  the  elder  woman's  neck. 
She  was  conscious  of  a  curious  impulse  to  tears,  but  she 
conquered  it,  forcing  herself  somewhat  brokenly  to  laugh. 

"Isn't  it  lovely  to  be  together  again?"  she  whispered. 
"You  can't  think  what  it  means  to  me.  I  lay  in  bed  last 
night  and  counted  the  hours  and  then  the  minutes.  I 
was  so  dreadfully  afraid  something  might  happen  to  prevent 
my  coming.  And,  oh,  Isabel,  I  had  no  idea  your  home  was 
so  beautiful." 

Isabel's  hold  slackened.  "Sit  on  the  sofa  beside  me,  my 

298 


The  Watcher  299 

darling!"  she  said.  "I  am  so  glad  you  like  Willowmount. 
Was  Eustace  in  time  for  your  train?" 

Dinah  laughed  again  with  more  assurance.  "Oh  no!  I 
got  there  first.  He  came  swooping  down  as  (if  he  had 
dropped  from  the  clouds.  We  had  a  very  quick  run  back, 
and  I'm  blown  all  to  pieces."  She  put  up  impetuous 
hands  to  thrust  back  the  disordered  clusters  of  dark  hair. 

"Take  off  your  hat!"  said  Scott. 

She  obeyed,  with  shining  eyes  upon  him.  "Now,  why 
didn't  you  come  over  to  Perry thorpe  ?  You  haven't  told 
me  yet. " 

"  I  was  busy, "  he  answered.     "  I  had  to  get  home. " 

His  eyes  were  shining  also.  She  did  not  need  to  be  told 
that  he  was  glad  to  see  her.  He  rang  for  tea  and  sat  down 
somewhere  near  in  his  usual  unobtrusive  fashion.  Eustace 
occupied  the  place  of  honour  in  an  easy-chair  drawn  close 
to  the  end  of  the  sofa  on  which  Dinah  sat.  He  was  watch- 
ing her,  she  knew,  but  she  could  not  meet  his  look  as  she  met 
Scott's.  His  very  nearness  made  her  feel  again  the  scorch- 
ing of  the  flame. 

She  slipped  her  hand  into  Isabel's  as  though  seeking 
refuge  and  as  she  did  so  she  heard  Eustace  address  his 
brother,  his  tone  brief  and  peremptory, — the  voice  of  the 
employer. 

"You  have  finished  that  correspondence?" 

"I  shall  finish  it  in  time  for  the  post,"  Scott  made 
answer. 

Eustace  made  a  sound  expressive  of  dissatisfaction. 
"You'll  miss  it  sure  as  a  gun!" 

Scott  said  nothing  further,  but  his  silence  was  not  with- 
out a  certain  mastery  that  sent  an  odd  little  thrill  of  triumph 
through  Dinah. 

Eustace  frowned  heavily  and  turned  from  him. 

The  entrance  of  Biddy  with  the  tea  made  a  diversion,  for 
her  greeting  of  Dinah  was  full  of  warmth. 


300  Greatheart 

"But  sure,  ye're  not  looking  like  I'd  like  to  see  ye,  Miss 
Dinah, "  was  her  verdict.  "  It's  meself  that'll  have  to  feed 
ye  up." 

"But  I'm  always  thin!"  protested  Dinah.  " It's  just  the 
way  I'm  made." 

Biddy  pursed  her  lips  and  shook  her  head.  "  It's  not  the 
sign  of  a  contented  mind, "  she  commented. 

"I  never  was  contented  before  I  went  to  Switzerland," 
said  Dinah;  she  turned  to  Isabel.  "Wasn't  it  all  lovely? 
It's  just  like  a  dream  to  me  now — all  glitter  and  romance. 
I'd  give  anything  to  have  it  over  again. " 

"I'll  show  you  better  things  than  winter  in  the  Alps," 
said  Eustace  in  his  free,  imperial  fashion. 

Her  bright  eyes  glanced  up  to  his  for  a  moment.  "Do 
you  know  I  don't  believe  you  could,"  she  said. 

He  laughed.  "You  won't  say  that  six  months  hence. 
The  Alps  will  be  no  more  than  an  episode  to  you  then." 

"Rather  an  important  episode,"  remarked  Scott. 

Her  look  came  to  him,  settled  upon  him  like  a  shy  bird  at 
rest.  "Very,  very  important,"  she  said  softly.  "Do  you 
remember  that  first  day — that  first  night — how  you  helped 
me  dress  for  the  ball?  Eustace  would  never  have  thought 
of  dancing  with  me  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you. " 

"I  seem  to  have  a  good  deal  to  answer  for,"  said  Scott, 
with  his  rather  tired  smile. 

"I  owe  you — everything,"  said  Dinah. 

"Stumpy  has  many  debtors,"  said  Isabel. 

Eustace  uttered  a  brief  laugh.  "Stumpy  scores  without 
running,"  he  observed.  "He  always  has.  Saves  trouble, 
eh,  Stumpy?" 

"Quite  so,"  said  Scott  with  precision.  "It's  easy  to  be 
kind  when  it  costs  you  nothing. " 

"And  it  pays,"  said  Eustace. 

Dinah's  green  eyes  went  back  to  him  with  something  of  a 
flash.  "Scott  would  never  have  thought  of  that,"  she  said. 


The  Watcher  301 

"I  am  sure  he  wouldn't,"  said  Eustace  dryly. 

Her  look  darted  about  him  like  an  angry  bird  seeking 
some  vulnerable  point  whereat  to  strike.  But  before  she 
could  speak,  Scott  leaned  forward  and  intervened. 

"My  thoughts  are  my  own  private  property,  if  no  one 
objects, "  he  said  whimsically.  "  Judge  me — if  you  must — 
by  my  actions!  But  I  should  prefer  not  to  be  judged  at  all. 
Have  you  told  Dinah  about  the  invitation  to  the  de  Vignes's, 
Eustace?" 

" No!  They  haven't  asked  you  for  the  wedding  surely!" 
Dinah's  thoughts  were  instantly  diverted.  "Have  they 
really?  I  never  thought  they  would.  Oh,  that  will  be  fun ! 
I  expect  Rose  is  trying  to  pretend  she  isn't —  She  broke 
off,  colouring  vividly.  "What  a  pig  I  am!"  she  said 
apologetically  to  Scott.  "  Please  forget  I  said  that ! " 

"But  you  didn't  say  it,"  said  Scott. 

"A  near  thing!"  commented  Eustace.  "I  had  no  idea 
Miss  de  Vigne  was  so  smitten.  Stumpy,  you'll  be  best 
man.  You'll  have  to  console  her." 

"I  believe  the  best  man  has  to  console  everybody,"  said 
Scott. 

"You  are  peculiarly  well  fitted  for  the  task,"  said  his 
brother,  setting  down  his  cup  and  pulling  out  a  cigarette- 
case.  "  Be  quick  and  quench  your  thirst,  Dinah.  I  want  to 
trot  you  round  the  place  before  dark." 

Dinah  looked  at  Isabel.     "You'll  come  too?" 

Isabel  shook  her  head.  "No,  dear,  I  can't  walk  much. 
Besides,  Eustace  will  want  you  to  himself. " 

But  a  queer  little  spirit  of  perversity  had  entered  into 
Dinah.  She  shook  her  head  also.  "We  will  go  round  in 
the  morning,"  she  said,  with  a  resolute  look  at  her  fiance. 
"I  am  going  to  stay  with  Isabel  to-night.  You  have  had 
quite  as  much  of  me  as  is  good  for  you;  now  haven't  you? " 

There  was  an  instant  of  silence  that  felt  ominous  before 
somewhat  curtly  Sir  Eustace  yielded  the  point.  "I  won't 


302  Greatheart 

grudge  you  to  Isabel  if  she  wants  you.  You  can  both  of  you 
come  up  to  the  picture-gallery  when  you  have  done.  There's 
a  fine  view  of  the  river  from  there. " 

He  got  up  with  the  words  and  Scott  rose  also.  They 
went  away  together,  and  Dinah  at  once  nestled  to  Isabel's 
side. 

"Now  we  can  be  cosy!"  she  said. 

Isabel  put  an  arm  about  her.  "You  mustn't  make  me 
monopolize  you,  sweetheart,"  she  said.  "I  think  Eustace 
was  a  little  disappointed." 

"I'll  be  ever  so  nice  to  him  presently  to  make  up,"  said 
Dinah.  "But  I  do  want  you  now,  Isabel!" 

"What  is  it,  dearest?" 

Dinah's  cheek  rubbed  softly  against  her  shoulder. 
"Isabel — darling,  I  never  thought  that  you  and  Scott  were 
going  to  leave  this  place  because  Eustace  was  marrying 
me." 

Isabel's  arm  pressed  her  closer.  "We  are  not  going  far 
away,  darling.  It  will  be  better  for  you  to  be  alone. " 

"I  don't  think  so,"  said  Dinah.  "We  shall  be  alone  quite 
long  enough  on  our  honeymoon."  She  trembled  a  little  in 
Isabel's  hold.  "I  do  wish  you  were  coming  too,"  she 
whispered. 

"My  dear,  Eustace  will  take  care  of  you,"  Isabel  said. 

"Oh  yes,  I  know.  But  he's  so  big.  He  wants  such  a 
lot,"  murmured  Dinah  in  distress.  "I  don't  know  quite 
how  to  manage  him.  He's  never  satisfied.  If — if  only  you 
were  coming  with  us,  he'd  have  something  else  to  think 
about." 

"Oh  no,  he  wouldn't,  dear.  When  you  are  present,  he 
thinks  of  no  one  else.  You  see,"  Isabel  spoke  with  some- 
thing of  an  effort,  "he's  in  love  with  you." 

"Yes — yes,  of  course.  I'm  very  silly."  Dinah  dabbed 
her  eyes  and  began  to  smile.  "  But  he  makes  me  feel  all  the 
while  as  if — as  if  he  wants  to  eat  me.  I  know  it's  all  my 


The  Watcher  303 

silliness;  but  I  wish  you  weren't  going  to  the  Dower  House 
all  the  same.  Shall  you  be  quite  comfortable  there?" 

"It  is  being  done  up,  dear.  You  must  come  round  with 
us  and  see  it.  We  shall  move  in  directly  the  wedding  is 
over,  and  then  this  place  is  to  be  done  up  too,  made  ready 
for  you.  I  believe  you  are  to  choose  wall-papers  and  hang- 
ings while  you  are  here.  You  will  enjoy  that. " 

"  If  you  will  help  me, "  said  Dinah. 

"Of  course  I  will  help  you,  dear  child.  I  will  always 
help  you  with  anything  so  long  as  it  is  in  my  power. " 

Very  tenderly  Isabel  .reassured  her  till  presently  the 
scared  feeling  subsided. 

They  went  up  later  to  the  picture-gallery  and  joined 
Eustace  whom  they  found  smoking  there.  His  mood 
also  had  changed  by  that  time,  and  he  introduced  his  ances- 
tors to  Dinah  with  complete  good  humour. 

Isabel  remained  with  them,  but  she  talked  very  little  in 
her  brother's  presence;  and  when  after  a  time  Dinah  turned 
to  her  she  was  startled  by  the  deadly  weariness  of  her  face. 

"Oh,  I  am  tiring  you!"  she  exclaimed,  with  swift  com- 
punction. 

But  Isabel  assured  her  with  a  smile  that  this  was  not  so. 
She  was  a  little  tired,  but  that  was  nothing  new. 

"But  you  generally  rest  before  dinner!"  said  Dinah,  full 
of  self-reproach,  "Eustace,  ought  she  not  to  rest?" 

Eustace  glanced  at  his  sister  half-reluctantly,  and  a 
shade  of  concern  crossed  his  face  also.  "Are  you  feeling 
faint?"  he  asked  her.  "  Do  you  want  anything?" 

"  No,  no !  Of  course  not ! "  She  averted  her  face  sharply 
from  his  look.  "  Go  on  talking  to  Dinah !  I  am  all  right. " 

She  moved  to  a  deep  window-embrasure,  and  sat  down 
on  the  cushioned  seat.  The  spring  dusk  was  falling.  She 
gazed  forth  into  it  with  that  look  of  perpetual  searching  that 
Dinah  had  grown  to  know  in  the  earliest  days  of  their 
acquaintance.  She  was  watching,  she  was  waiting, — for 


304  Greatheart 

what?  She  longed  to  draw  near  and  comfort  her,  but 
the  presence  of  Eustace  made  that  impossible.  She  did 
not  know  how  to  dismiss  him. 

And  then  to  her  relief  the  door  opened,  and  Scott  came 
quietly  in  upon  them.  He  seemed  to  take  in  the  situation 
at  a  glance,  for  after  a  few  words  with  them  he  passed  on  to 
Isabel,  sitting  aloof  and  silent  in  the  twilight. 

She  greeted  him  with  a  smile,  and  Dinah's  anxiety  lifted 
somewhat.  She  turned  to  Eustace. 

"  Show  me  your  den  now!"  she  said.  "  I  can  see  the  rest 
of  the  house  to-morrow." 

And  with  a  feeling  that  she  was  doing  Isabel  a  service 
she  went  away  with  him  alone. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   WRONG    ROAD 

WHEN  Dinah  descended  to  breakfast  the  next  morning, 
she  encountered  Scott  in  the  hall.  He  had  evidently 
just  come  in  from  an  early  ride,  and  he  was  looking  younger 
and  more  animated  than  his  wont. 

"Ah,  there  you  are ! "  he  said,  coming  to  meet  her.  "  I've 
got  some  shocking  news  for  you  this  morning.  Eustace  has 
had  to  go  to  town  to  see  his  solicitor.  An  urgent  telephone 
message  came  through  this  morning.  He  has  just  gone  up 
by  the  early  train  in  the  hope  of  getting  back  in  good  time. 
He  charged  me  with  all  sorts  of  messages  for  you,  and  I 
have  promised  to  take  care  of  you  in  his  absence,  if  you  will 
allow  me." 

"Oh,  that  will  be  great  fun!"  exclaimed  Dinah  ingenu- 
ously, "  I  hope  you  are  not  very  busy.  I'd  like  you  to  show 
me  everything. " 

He  laughed.  "  No,  I  can't  do  that.  We  must  keep  that 
for  Eustace.  But  I  will  take  you  to  the  Dower  House,  and 
show  you  that. " 

"  I  shall  love  that,  "  said  Dinah. 

He  took  her  into  a  room  that  overlooked  terrace  and 
river- valley  and  the  sunny  southern  slope  that  lay  between. 

Breakfast  was  laid  for  two,  and  a  cheery  fire  was  burning. 
"How  cosy  it  looks!"  said  Dinah. 

"  It  does,  doesn't  it ? "  said  Scott.  "We  always  breakfast 
here  in  the  winter  for  that  reason.  Not  that  it  is  winter 
20  3°5 


306  Greatheart 

to-day.  It  is  glorious  spring.  You  seem  to  have  brought 
it  with  you.  Take  the  coffee-pot  end,  won't  you?  What 
will  you  have  to  eat?" 

He  spoke  with  a  lightness  that  Dinah  found  peculiarly 
exhilarating.  He  was  evidently  determined  that  she  should 
not  be  dull.  Her  spirits  rose.  She  suddenly  felt  like  a  child 
who  has  been  granted  an  unexpected  holiday. 

She  smiled  up  at  him  as  he  brought  her  a  plate.  "Isn't 
it  a  perfect  morning ?  I'm  so  glad  to  be  here.  Don't  let  us 
waste  a  single  minute;  will  we? " 

"Not  one,"  said  Scott. 

He  went  to  his  own  place.  He  was  plainly  in  a  holiday 
mood  also.  She  saw  it  in  his  whole  bearing,  and  her  heart 
rejoiced.  It  was  so  good  to  see  him  looking  happy. 

"Have  you  seen  Isabel  this  morning?"  he  asked  her 
presently. 

"No.  I  went  to  her  door,  but  Biddy  said  she  was  asleep, 
so  I  didn't  go  in. " 

"She  often 'doesn't  sleep  much  before  morning,"  Scott 
said.  "I  expect  she  will  be  down  to  luncheon  if  you  can  put 
up  with  me  only  till  then. " 

He  evidently  did  not  want  to  discuss  Isabel's  health 
just  then,  and  Dinah  was  quite  willing  also  to  let  the  subject 
pass  for  the  time.  It  was  a  morning  for  happy  thoughts 
only.  She  and  Scott  would  pretend  that  they  had  not  a 
care  in  the  world. 

They  breakfasted  together  as  if  it  were  a  picnic.  She 
had  never  seen  him  so  cheery  and  inconsequent.  It  was  as 
if  he  also  were  engaged  in  some  species  of  make-believe.  Or 
was  it  the  enchantment  of  spring  that  had  fallen  upon  them 
both?  Dinah  could  not  have  said.  She  only  knew  that 
she  had  never  felt  so  happy  in  all  her  life  before. 

The  walk  to  the  Dower  House  was  full  of  delight.  It  was 
all  so  exquisite,  the  long,  grassy  slopes,  the  dark  woods,  the 
bare  trees  stark  against  the  blue.  The  path  led  through  a 


The  Wrong  Road  307 

birch  copse,  and  here  in  sheltered  corners  were  primroses. 
She  gathered  them  eagerly,  and  Scott  helped  her,  even 
forgetting  to  smoke. 

She  did  not  remember  later  what  they  talked  about,  or 
even  if  they  talked  at  all.  But  the  amazing  gladness  of  her 
heart  on  that  spring  morning  was  to  be  a  vivid  memory 
to  her  for  as  long  as  she  lived. 

They  reached  the  Dower  House.  Like  Willowmount,  it 
overlooked  the  river,  but  from  a  different  angle.  Dinah  was 
charmed  with  the  old  place.  It  was  full  of  unexpected 
corners  and  old-fashioned  contrivances.  Blue  patches  of 
violets  bloomed  in  the  garden.  Again  with  Scott's  help, 
she  gathered  a  great  dewy  bunch. 

There  were  workmen  in  one  or  two  of  the  rooms,  and  she 
stood  by  or  wandered  at  will  while  Scott  talked  to  the 
foreman. 

They  found  themselves  presently  in  the  room  that  was  to 
be  Isabel's, — a  large  and  sunlit  apartment  that  had  a  turret 
window  that  looked  to  the  far  hills  beyond  the  river. 

Dinah  stood  entranced  with  her  eyes  upon  the  blue  dis- 
tance. Finally,  with  a  sigh,  she  spoke. 

"How  I  wish  I  were  going  to  live  here  too ! " 

"What!  You  like  it  better  than  Willowmount?"  said 
Scott. 

She  made  a  little  gesture  of  the  hands,  as  if  she  pleaded 
for  understanding.  "  I  feel  so  small  in  big  places.  This  is 
spacious,  but  it's  cosy  too.  I — I  should  feel  lost  alone 
at  Willowmount." 

"But  you  won't  be  alone,"  he  pointed  out,  with  his 
kindly  smile.  "You  will  be  very  much  the  reverse,  I  can 
assure  you." 

She  gave  that  sharp,  uncontrollable  little  shiver  of  hers. 
"You  mean  Eustace — "  she  said  haltingly. 

"Yes,  Eustace,  and  all  the  people  round  who  will  want 
to  know  his  bride,"  said  Scott.  "T  don't  think  you  will 


308  Greatheart 

have  much  time  to  be  lonely.  If  you  have,  you  can  always 
come  along  to  us,  you  know.  We  shall  be  only  too  delighted 
to  see  you." 

Dinah  turned  to  him  impulsively.  "You  are  good!" 
she  said.  "I  wonder  you  don't  look  upon  me  as  a  horrid 
little  interloper,  turning  you  out  of  your  home  where  you 
have  always  lived !  I  do  hate  the  thought  of  it !  Really  it 
isn't  my  fault. " 

She  spoke  with  tears  in  her  eyes;  but  Scott  still  smiled. 
"My  dear  child,"  he  said,  "such  an  idea  never  entered 
my  head.  Isabel  and  I  have  often  thought  we  should  like 
to  make  this  our  home.  We  have  always  intended  to  as 
soon  as  Eustace  married. " 

"Did  you  never  think  of  marrying?"  Dinah  asked  him 
suddenly. 

There  was  an  instant's  pause,  and  then,  as  he  was  about  to 
speak,  she  broke  in  quickly. 

"Oh,  please  don't  tell  me!  I  was  a  pig  to  ask!  I  didn't 
mean  to.  It  just  slipped  out.  Do  forgive  me!" 

"But  why  shouldn't  you  ask?"  said  Scott  gently.  "We 
are  friends.  I  don't  mind  answering  you.  I've  had  my 
dream  like  the  rest  of  the  world.  But  it  was  very  soon 
over.  I  never  seriously  deluded  myself  into  the  belief 
that  anyone  could  care  to  marry  a  shrimp  like  me. " 

"Oh,  Scott!"  Almost  fiercely  Dinah  cut  him  short. 
"How  can  you — you  of  all  people — say  a  thing  like  that?" 

Scott  looked  at  her  quizzically  for  a  moment.  "  I  should 
have  thought  I  was  the  one  person  who  could  say  it, "  he 
observed. 

Dinah  turned  from  him  sharply.  Her  hands  were 
clenched.  "Oh  no!  Oh  no!"  she  said  incoherently. 
"It's  not  right!  It's  not  fair!  You — you — Mr.  Great- 
heart!"  Quite  suddenly,  as  if  the  utterance  of  the  name 
were  too  much  for  her,  she  broke  down,  covered  her  face, 
and  wept. 


The  Wrong  Road  309 

"Dinah!"  said  Scott. 

He  came  to  her  and  took  her  very  gently  by  the  arm. 
Dinah's  shoulders  were  shaking.  She  could  not  lift  her 
face. 

"Why — why  shouldn't  your  dream  come  true  too?"  she 
sobbed.  "You — who  help  everybody — to  get  what  they 
want!" 

"My  dear,"  Scott  said,  "my  dream  is  over.  Don't  you 
grieve  on  my  account!  God  knows  I'm  not  grieving  for 
myself. "  His  voice  was  low,  but  very  steadfast. 

"You  wouldn't!"  said  Dinah. 

"No;  because  it's  futile,  unnecessary,  a  waste  of  time. 
I've  other  things  to  do — plenty  of  other  things."  Scott 
braced  himself  with  the  words,  as  one  who  manfully  lifts  a 
burden.  "Cheer  up,  Dinah!  I  didn't  mean  to  make  you 
sad." 

"But — but — are  you  sure — quite  sure — she  didn't  care?" 
faltered  Dinah,  rubbing  her  eyes  woefully. 

"Quite  sure,"  said  Scott,  with  decision. 

Dinah  threw  him  a  sudden,  flashing  glance  of  indigna- 
tion. "Then  she  was  a  donkey,  Scott,  a  fool — an  idiot!" 
she  declared,  with  trembling  vehemence.  "I'd  like — oh, 
how  I'd  like — to  tell  her  so." 

Scott  was  smiling,  his  own,  whimsical  smile.  "Yes, 
wouldn't  you?"  he  said.  "And  it's  awfully  nice  of  you 
to  say  so.  But  do  you  know,  you're  quite  wrong.  She 
wasn't  any  of  those  things.  On  the  other  hand,  I  was  all 
three.  But  where's  the  use  of  talking?  It's  over,  and  a 
good  thing  too!" 

Dinah  slipped  a  quivering  hand  over  his.  "We'll  always 
be  friends,  won't  we,  Scott? "  she  said  tremulously. 

"Always,"  said  Scott. 

She  squeezed  his  hand  hard,  and  in  response  his  fingers 
pressed  her  arm.  His  steady  eyes  looked  straight  into 
hers. 


3io  Greatheart 

And  in  the  silence,  there  came,  to  Dinah  a  queer  stirring 
of  uncertainty, — the  uncertainty  of  one  who  just  begins  to 
suspect  that  he  is  on  the  wrong  road. 

The  moment  passed,  and  they  talked  again  of  lighter 
things,  but  the  mood  of  irresponsible  light-heartedness  had 
gone.  When  they  finally  left  the  Dower  House,  Dinah  felt 
that  she  trod  the  earth  once  more. 

"I  shall  come  and  see  you  very  often  when  we  come 
back,"  she  said  rather  wistfully.  "I  hope  Eustace  won't 
want  to  be  away  a  very  long  time. " 

"Aren't  you  looking  forward  to  your  honeymoon  ? "  asked 
Scott. 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Dinah,  and  paused.  " I  really  don't 
know.  But,"  brightening,  "I'm  sure  the  wedding  will  be 
great  fun. " 

"I  hope  it  will,"  said  Scott  kindly. 

It  was  not  till  they  were  nearing  Willowmount  that 
Dinah  asked  him  at  length  hesitatingly  about  Isabel. 

"  Do  you  mind  telling  me?     Is  she  worse?" 

Scott  also  hesitated  a  little  before  he  answered.  Then: 
"In  one  sense  she  is  much  better,"  he  said.  "But  physi- 
cally, "  he  paused,  "physically  she  is  losing  ground. " 

"Oh,  Scott!"  Dinah  looked  at  him  with  swift  dismay. 
"But  why — why?  Can  nothing  be  done?" 

His  eyes  met  hers  unwaveringly.  "No,  nothing,"  he 
said,  and  he  spoke  with  that  decision  which  she  had  come 
to  know  as  in  some  fashion  a  part  of  himself.  His  words 
carried  conviction,  and  yet  by  some  means  they  quieted 
her  dismay  as  well.  He  went  on  after  a  moment  with 
that  gentle  philosophy  of  his  that  seemed  to  soften  all  he 
said.  "She  is  as  one  nearing  the  end  of  a  long  journey,  and 
she  is  very  tired,  poor  girl.  We  can't  grudge  her  her  rest — 
when  it  comes.  Eustace  wants  to  rouse  her,  but  I  think 
the  time  for  that  is  past.  It  is  kinder — it  is  wiser — to  let 
her  alone." 


The  Wrong  Road  311 

Dinah  drew  a  little  nearer  to  him.  "Do  you  mean — 
that  you  think  she  won't  live  very  long?"  she  whispered. 

"If  you  like  to  put  it  that  way,"  Scott  answered 
quietly. 

"Oh,  but  what  of  you?"  she  said. 

She  uttered  the  words  almost  involuntarily,  and  the  next 
moment  she  would  have  recalled  them,  for  she  saw  his  face 
change.  For  a  second — only  a  second — she  read  suffering 
in  his  eyes.  But  he  answered  her  without  hesitation. 

"I  shall  just  keep  on,  Dinah,"  he  said.  "It's  the  only 
way.  But,  as  I  think  I've  mentioned  before,  it's  no  good 
meeting  troubles  half-way.  The  day's  work  is  all  that  really 
matters. " 

They  walked  on  for  a  space  in  silence;  then  as  they 
drew  near  the  house  he  changed  the  subject.  But  that 
brief  shadow  of  a  coming  desolation  dwelt  in  Dinah's 
memory  with  a  persistence  that  defied  all  lesser  things. 
He  was  brave  enough,  cheery  enough,  in  the  shouldering  of 
his  burden ;  but  her  heart  ached  when  she  realized  how  heavy 
that  burden  must  be. 

A  message  awaited  her  at  the  house  that  she  would  go  to 
Isabel  in  her  sitting-room,  and  she  went,  half-eager,  half- 
diffident.  But  as  soon  as  she  was  with  her  friend  her 
doubts  were  all  gone.  For  Isabel  looked  and  spoke  so  much 
as  usual  that  it  seemed  impossible  to  believe  that  she  was 
indeed  nearing  the  end  of  the  journey. 

She  wanted  to  know  all  that  Dinah  had  been  doing,  and 
they  sat  and  discussed  the  decorations  of  the  Dower  House 
till  the  luncheon-hour. 

When  luncheon  was  over  they  repaired  to  a  sheltered 
corner  of  the  terrace,  looking  down  over  the  garden  to  the 
river,  while  Scott  went  away  to  write  letters;  and  here 
they  talked  over  the  serious  matter  of  the  trousseau  with 
regard  to  which  neither  Dinah  nor  her  mother  had  made 
any  very  definite  arrangements. 


312  Greatheart 

Perhaps  Mrs.  Bat  hurst  had  foreseen  the  possibility  of 
Isabel  desiring  to  undertake  this  responsibility.  Perhaps 
Isabel  had  already  dropped  a  hint  of  her  intention.  In  any 
case  it  seemed  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that 
Isabel  should  be  the  one  to  assist  and  advise,  and  when 
Dinah  demurred  a  little  on  the  score  of  cost  she  found  her- 
self gently  but  quite  effectually  silenced.  Sir  Eustace's 
bride  must  have  a  suitable  outfit,  Isabel  told  her.  The 
question  of  ways  and  means  was  not  one  which  need  trouble 
her. 

So  Dinah  obediently  put  the  matter  from  her,  and  en- 
tered into  the  delightful  discussion  with  keen  zest.  Isa- 
bel's ideas  were  so  entrancing.  She  knew  exactly  what 
she  would  need.  Her  taste  also  was  so  simple,  and  so  unerr- 
ing. Dinah  had  never  before  pictured  herself  as  possessing 
such  things  as  Isabel  calmly  proclaimed  that  she  must 
have. 

"We  must  go  up  to  town  to-morrow,"  Isabel  said,  "and 
get  things  started.  It  will  mean  the  whole  day,  I  am  afraid. 
Can  you  bear  to  be  parted  from  Eustace  for  so  long? " 

Dinah  laughed  merrily  at  the  question.  "Of  course — of 
course !  What  fun  it  will  be !  I  always  knew  I  should  like 
to  be  married,  but  I  never  dreamt  it  could  be  so  exciting 
as  this." 

Isabel  smiled  at  her  with  a  touch  of  pity  in  her  eyes. 
"Marriage  isn't  only  new  clothes  and  wedding  presents, 
Dinah, "  she  said. 

"No,  no!  I  know!"  Dinah  spoke  with  swift  compunc- 
tion. "It  is  far  more  than  that.  But  I've  never  had  such 
lovely  things  before.  I  can't  help  feeling  a  little  giddy  about 
it.  You  do  understand,  don't  you?  I'm  not  like  that  all 
through — really. " 

"My  darling!"  Isabel  answered  fondly.  "Of  course  I 
know  it.  I  sometimes  think  that  it  would  be  better  for  you 
if  you  were." 


The  Wrong  Road  313 

"Isabel,  why — why?"  Dinah  pressed  close  to  her,  half- 
curious,  half -frightened. 

But  Isabel  did  not  answer  her.  She  only  kissed  the  vivid, 
upturned  face  with  all  a  mother's  tenderness,  and  turned 
back  in  silence,  to  the  fashion-book  on  her  knee. 


CHAPTER  VII 

DOUBTING   CASTLE 

WHEN  Sir  Eustace  returned,  he  found  his  bride-elect 
awaiting  him  with  a  radiant  face.  She  sprang  to 
greet  him  with  an  eagerness  that  outwent  all  shyness. 

"Oh,  Eustace,  I  have  had  such  a  lovely  time!"  she  told 
him.  "  It  has  been  a  perfect  day. " 

She  offered  him  her  lips  with  a  child's  simplicity,  but 
blushed  deeply  when  she  felt  the  hot  pressure  of  his,  turning 
her  face  aside  the  moment  he  released  her. 

He  laughed  a  little,  keeping  his  arm  about  her  shoulders. 
"You  haven't  missed  me  then?"  he  said. 

"Oh,  not  a  bit, "  said  Dinah  truthfully;  and  then  quickly, 
"but  what  a  horrid  thing  to  say!  Why  did  you  put  it  like 
that?" 

"  I  wanted  to  know, "  said  Sir  Eustace. 

She  turned  back  to  him.  "  I  should  have  missed  you  if  I 
hadn't  been  so  busy.  Isabel  is  going  to  help  me  with  my 
trousseau.  And  oh,  Eustace,  I  am  to  have  such  a  crowd  of 
lovely  things." 

He  pinched  her  cheek.  "What  should  a  brown  elf  need 
beyond  a  shift  of  thistle-down  ?  Where  is  Isabel  ? ' ' 

"She  is  resting  now.  She  got  so  tired.  Biddy  said  she 
must  lie  down,  and  we  mustn't  disturb  her  for  tea.  I  do 
hope  it  wasn't  too  much  for  her,  Eustace." 

"Too  much  for  her!  Nonsense!  It  does  her  good  to 
think  of  someone  else  besides  herself,"  said  Eustace.  "If 

314 


Doubting  Castle  315 

Biddy  didn't  coddle  her  so  in  the  day  time,  she  would  sleep 
better  at  night.  Well,  where  is  tea?  In  the  drawing- 
room?  Come  along  and  have  it !" 

Dinah  clung  to  his  arm.  "It — it's  in  a  place  called  my 
lady's  boudoir,"  she  told  him  shyly. 

He  looked  at  her.  "Where?  Oh,  I  know.  That  inner 
sanctuary  with  the  west  window.  You've  taken  a  fancy  to 
it,  have  you?  Then  we  will  call  it  Daphne's  Bower. " 

Dinah's  laugh  was  not  without  a  hint  of  restraint.  "I 
haven't  been  in  any  other  room.  Scott  said  you  would 
show  me  everything.  But  I  just  wandered  in  there,  and  he 
found  me  and  showed  me  the  dear  little  boudoir.  He 
said  you  were  going  to  have  it  done  up. " 

"So  I  am,"  said  Eustace.  "Everything  that  belongs 
to  you  must  be  new.  Have  you  decided  what  colour  will 
suit  you  best?" 

They  were  passing  through  the  long  drawing-room 
towards  the  curtained  doorway  that  led  into  the  little 
boudoir.  The  drawing-room  was  a  palatial  apartment  with 
stately  French  furniture  that  Dinah  surveyed  with  awe. 
She  could  not  picture  herself  as  hostess  in  so  magnificent 
a  setting.  She  could  only  think  of  Rose  de  Vigne.  It 
would  have  suited  her  flawless  beauty  perfectly,  and  she 
knew  that  Rose's  self-contained  heart  would  have  revelled 
in  such  an  atmosphere. 

But  it  made  her  feel  a  stranger,  and  she  hastened  through 
it  to  the  cosier  nest  beyond. 

This  was  a  far  more  homely  spot.  The  furniture  here  was 
French  also,  and  exquisitely  delicate;  but  it  was  designed  for 
comfort,  and  the  gilded  state  of  the  outer  room  was  wholly 
absent. 

A  tea-table  stood  near  a  deeply-cushioned  settee,  and  the 
kettle  sang  merrily  over  a  spirit-lamp. 

Eustace  dropped  on  to  the  settee  and  drew  her  suddenly 
and  wholly  unexpectedly  down  upon  his  knee. 


316  Greatheart 

"Oh,  Eustace!"  she  gasped,  turning  crimson. 

He  wound  his  arms  about  her,  holding  her  two  hands 
imprisoned.  "Oh,  Daphne!"  he  mocked  softly.  "I've 
caught  you — I've  caught  you!  Here  in  your  own  bower 
with  no  one  to  look  on!  No,  you  can't  even  nutter  your 
wings  now.  You've  got  to  stay  still  and  be  worshipped. " 

He  spoke  with  his  face  against  her  neck.  She  felt  the 
burning  of  his  breath,  and  something — an  urgent,  inner 
prompting — warned  her  to  submit.  She  sat  there  in  his 
grasp  in  quivering  silence. 

His  arms  drew  her  nearer,  nearer.  It  was  as  if  he  were 
gradually  merging  her  whole  being  into  his.  In  a  moment, 
with  a  little  gasp,  she  gave  him  her  trembling  lips. 

He  uttered  a  low  laugh  of  mastery  and  gave  his  passion 
the  rein,  overwhelming  her  with  those  devouring  kisses 
that  from  the  very  outset  had  always  filled  her  with  an 
indefinable  sense  of  shame.  She  was  quite  powerless  to 
frustrate  him.  The  delicate  barrier  of  her  reserve  was 
rudely  torn  away.  The  burning  blush  on  face  and  neck 
served  but  to  feed  the  flame.  He  kissed  the  panting 
throat  as  if  he  would  draw  the  very  life  out  of  it.  There 
was  fierce  possession  in  the  holding  of  his  arms.  She 
thought  she  would  never  be  free  again. 

The  first  fiery  wave  spent  itself  at  last,  but  even  then 
he  did  not  let  her  go.  He  held  her  pressed  to  him,  and  she 
lay  against  his  breast  trembling  but  wholly  passive,  over- 
come by  an  inexplicable  longing  to  hide,  to  hide. 

After  a  few  seconds  he  spoke  to  her,  his  voice  oddly 
unsteady,  very  deep.  "You're  driving  me  mad,  Daphne. 
Do  you  know  that?" 

"I — I'm  sorry,"  she  faltered,  trying  to  shelter  her 
tingling  face  in  his  coat. 

His  arms  were  tense  about  her.  "I  want  you  more  and 
more  every  day,"  he  said.  "I  don't  know  how  to  wait  for 
you.  How  long  is  it  to  our  wedding?" 


Doubting  Castle  317 

"Three  weeks  and  four  days,"  she  told  him  faintly. 

He  gave  his  low,  quivering  laugh.  "What!  You  are 
counting  the  days  too!  Daphne!  My  Daphne!  Need  we 
wait — all  that  time?" 

Dinah's  thumping  heart  gave  a  great  start  and  seemed 
to  stop.  "Oh  yes,"  she  gasped  desperately.  "Yes,  I 
couldn't  possibly — be  ready  sooner." 

He  put  his  face  down  to  hers,  as  one  who  breathes  the 
essence  of  a  flower.  ' '  You  are  ready  now, ' '  he  said.  ' '  You 
will  never  be  lovelier  than  you  are  to-night. " 

She  tried  to  laugh,  but  his  lips  were  too  near.  Her 
voice  quavered  piteously. 

"Why  do  I  wait  for  you?"  he  said,  and  in  his  words  there 
beat  a  fierce  unrest.  "Why  am  I  such  a  fool?  I  lie  awake 
night  after  night  consumed  with  the  want  of  you.  When  I 
sleep,  I  am  always  chasing  you,  you  will-o'-the-wisp;  and 
you  always  manage  to  keep  just  out  of  reach."  His  arms 
tightened.  His  voice  suddenly  sank  to  a  deep  whisper. 
"Daphne !  Shall  I  tell  you  what  I  am  going  to  do? " 

"What?"  panted  Dinah. 

"I  am  going  to  take  you  right  away  over  the  hills  to- 
morrow to  a  place  I  know  of  where  it  is  as  lonely  as  the 
Sahara,  and  we  will  have  a  picnic  there  all  to  ourselves — all 
to  ourselves,  and  make  up  for  to-day." 

His  lips  pressed  hers  again,  but  she  withdrew  herself 
with  a  sharp  effort.  There  was  nameless  terror  in  her 
heart. 

"Oh,  I  can't,  Eustace!  I  can't  indeed!"  she  said,  and 
now  she  was  striving,  striving  impotently,  for  freedom. 
"I'm  going  up  to  town  with  Isabel." 

"Isabel  can  wait,"  he  said. 

"No!  No!  I  must  go.  You  don't  understand.  There 
are  no  end  of  things  to  be  done."  Dinah  was  as  one 
encircled  by  fire,  searching  wildly  round  for  a  means  of 
escape.  "I  must  go!"  she  said  again.  "I  must  go!" 


3i  8  Greatheart 

"You  can  go  the  next  day, "  he  said  with  arrogance.  " I 
want  you  to-morrow  and  I  mean  to  have  you.  Look  at  me, 
Dinah!" 

She  glanced  at  him,  compelled  by  the  command  of  his 
tone,  met  the  fiery  intensity  of  his  look,  and  sank  helpless, 
conquered. 

He  kissed  her  again.  "There!  That's  settled.  You 
silly  little  thing!  Why  do  you  always  beat  your  wings 
against  the  inevitable  ?  Do  you  think  you  are  going  to  get 
away  from  me  now?" 

She  hid  her  face  against  his  shoulder.  She  was  almost 
in  tears.  "You — you  hurt  me!  You  frighten  me!"  she 
whispered. 

"Do  I ? "  he  said,  and  still  in  his  voice  she  heard  that  deep 
note  that  made  her  whole  being  quiver.  "It's  your  own 
fault,  my  Daphne.  You  shouldn't  run  away." 

"I — I  can't  help  it,"  she  said  tremulously.  "I  some- 
times think — I'm  not  big  enough  for  you. " 

"You'll  grow,"  he  said. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered  in  distress.  "I  may  not. 
And  if  I  do,  I  feel — I  feel  as  if  I  shan't  be  myself  any  longer, 
but  just — but  just — a  bit  of  you!" 

He  laughed.  "Daphne, — you  oddity!  Don't  you  want 
to  be  a  bit  of  me?" 

"I'd  rather  be  myself,"  she  murmured  shyly. 

His  hold  was  not  so  close,  and  she  longed,  but  did  not 
dare,  to  get  off  his  knee  and  breathe.  But  in  that  moment 
there  came  the  sound  of  a  halting  step  in  the  drawing-room 
beyond,  and  swiftly  she  raised  her  head. 

"Oh,  Eustace,  let  me  go!     Here  is  Scott!" 

He  did  not  release  her  instantly.  Scott  was  already  in 
the  doorway  before,  like  a  frightened  fawn,  she  leapt  from 
his  grasp.  She  heard  Eustace  laugh  again,  and  somehow 
his  laugh  had  a  note  of  insolence. 

"Come  in,  my  good  brother ! "  he  said.     " My  lady  is  just 


Doubting  Castle  319 

about  to  make  tea.  I  presume  that  is  what  you  have  come 
for." 

"The  presumption  is  correct,"  said  Scott. 

He  came  forward  in  his  quiet,  unhurried  fashion,  and 
paused  at  the  table  to  open  the  tea-caddy  for  Dinah. 

She  thanked  him  with  trembling  lips,  her  eyes  cast  down, 
her  face  on  fire. 

Eustace  lounged  back  on  the  settee  and  watched  her. 
He  frowned  momentarily  when  Scott  sat  down  beside  him, 
leaving  her  a  low  chair  by  the  tea-tray. 

Dinah's  hands  fluttered  among  the  cups.  She  was  pain- 
fully ill  at  ease.  But  in  a  second  or  two  Scott's  placid  voice 
came  into  the  silence,  and  at  once  her  distress  began  to 
subside. 

"Have  you  decided  about  the  decoration  of  this  room 
yet?"  he  asked.  "I  always  thought  this  dead-white  rather 
cold." 

"Dinah  is  to  have  her  own  choice,"  said  Sir  Eustace. 

"I  would  like  shell-pink,"  said  Dinah,  without  looking 
up.  "Don't  you  think  that  would  be  nice  with  those 
pretty  water-colour  sketches  ?" 

She  spoke  diffidently.  No  one  had  ever  deferred  to  her 
taste  before. 

Sir  Eustace  laughed  in  his  slightly  supercilious  way. 
"  Do  you  know  who  is  responsible  for  those  pretty  sketches, 
my  red,  red  rose?" 

She  glanced  up  nervously.  "Not — not — are  they  yours, 
Scott?" 

"They  are,"  said  Scott,  with  a  smile. 

She  met  his  eyes  for  an  instant,  and  was  surprised  by 
their  gravity.  "Oh,  I  do  like  them, "  she  said.  "I  wonder 
I  didn't  guess.  They  are  so  beautifully  finished,  so — 
complete." 

"I  am  glad  you  like  them, "  said  Scott.  " I  thought  you 
might  want  to  turn  them  out  as  lumber." 


320  Greatheart 

"As  if  I  should!"  she  said.  "I  love  them — every  one  of 
them.  I  shall  love  them  better  still  now  I  know  they  are 
yours. " 

"Thank  you, "  said  Scott. 

Eustace  turned  his  attention  to  him.  "No  one  ever  paid 
you  such  a  compliment  as  that  before,  my  good  Stumpy, " 
he  observed.  "If  everyone  saw  you  in  that  light,  you'd  be 
a  great  artist  by  now. " 

"I  wonder,"  said  Scott. 

Dinah  sent  him  another  swift  glance.  She  seemed  on 
the  verge  of  speech,  but  checked  herself,  and  there  fell  a 
brief  silence. 

It  was  broken  by  the  entrance  of  a  servant.  "If  you 
please,  Sir  Eustace,  Mr.  Grey  is  in  the  library  and  would 
be  glad  if  you  could  spare  him  a  few  minutes. " 

Sir  Eustace  uttered  an  impatient  exclamation.  "You  go 
and  see  what  he  wants,  Stumpy!"  he  said. 

But  Scott  remained  seated.  "  I  know  what  he  wants,  my 
dear  chap,  and  it's  something  that  only  you  can  give.  He 
has  come  about  Bob  Jelf  who  was  caught  poaching  last 
week.  He  wants  you  to  give  the  fellow  as  light  a  sentence 
as  possible  on  account  of  his  wife. " 

Sir  Eustace  frowned.  "I  never  give  a  light  sentence  for 
poaching.  He's  always  at  it,  I'd  give  him  the  cat  if  I 
could." 

Scott  raised  his  shoulders  slightly.  ' '  Well,  don't  ask  me 
to  say  that  to  Mr.  Grey!  He's  taking  the  whole  business 
badly  to  heart,  as  he  was  beginning  to  look  on  Jelf  as  a 
reformed  character." 

"I'll  reform  him!"  said  Sir  Eustace.  He  turned  to  the 
servant.  "Ask  Mr.  Grey  to  join  us  here!" 

"You  had  better  see  him  alone  first,"  said  Scott. 

' '  Why  ? ' '     His  brother  turned  upon  him  almost  savagely. 

Scott  took  up  his  tea-cup.  "You  can't  refuse  to  give  him 
a  hearing, "  he  observed.  "He  has  come  up  on  purpose. " 


Doubting  Castle  321 

Sir  Eustace  murmured  something  under  his  breath  and 
rose.  His  look  fell  upon  Dinah.  "It's  the  village  padre, " 
he  said.  "I  shall  have  to  bring  him  in  here.  I  hope  you 
don't  mind?" 

She  gave  him  a  quick,  half -startled  smile.  "Of  course 
not. " 

He  turned  to  the  door  which  the  waiting  servant  was 
holding  open,  and  strode  out  with  annoyed  majesty. 

Dinah  watched  him  till  the  door  closed;  then  very  sud- 
denly and  urgently  she  turned  to  Scott. 

"Oh,  please,  will  you  help  me?"  she  said. 

He  gave  her  a  straight,  keen  look  that  seemed  to  pene- 
trate to  her  soul.  "If  it  lies  in  my  power,  "  he  said  slowly. 

She  caught  her  breath,  pierced  by  a  sharp  uncertainty. 
"You  can.  I'm  sure  you  can,"  she  said. 

He  set  down  his  cup.  "Dinah,"  he  said  gently,  "don't 
ask  me  to  interfere  in  your  affairs  if  you  can  by  any  means 
manage  without!" 

"But  that's  just  it!"  she  said  in  distress.     "I  can't." 

He  leaned  forward.  "My  dear,  don't  be  agitated!"  he 
said.  "Tell  me  what  is  the  matter!" 

Dinah  leaned  forward  also,  her  hands  tightly  clasped, 
and  spoke  in  a  rapid  whisper. 

"Scott,  Eustace  wants  me  to  go  for  an  all -day  picnic 
alone  with  him  to-morrow.  I — don't  want  to  go." 

He  was  still  looking  at  her  with  that  straight,  almost 
stern  regard.  An  odd  little  quiver  went  through  her  as 
she  met  it.  She  felt  as  if  she  were  in  a  fashion  on  her  trial. 

"Why  don't  you  want  to  go?"  he  asked. 

She  hesitated.  "I  was  to  have  gone  up  to  town  with 
Isabel  to  shop, "  she  said. 

"No,  that  isn't  the  reason,"  he  said.  "Tell  me  the 
reason!" 

She  made  a  quick  gesture  of  appeal.  "I — wish  you 
wouldn't  ask, "  she  faltered,  and  suddenly  she  could  meet 


322  Greatheart 

his  eyes  no  longer.  She  lowered  her  own,  and  sat  before 
him  in  burning  confusion. 

"Have  you  asked  yourself?"  he  said,  his  voice  very  low. 

She  was  silent;  the  quiet  question  seemed  to  probe  her 
through  and  through.  There  was  no  evading  it. 

Scott  was  still  watching  her  very  closely,  very  intently. 
He  spoke  at  length,  just  as  she  was  beginning  to  feel  his 
scrutiny  to  be  more  than  she  could  bear. 

"If  you  are  just  shy  with  him — as  I  think  you  are — I 
think  you  ought  to  try  and  get  over  it,  as  much  for  his  sake 
as  for  your  own.  You  don't  want  to  hurt  him,  do  you? 
YOU  wouldn't  like  him  to  be  disappointed?" 

Dinah  shook  her  head.  "If  you  could  come  too!"  she 
suggested,  in  a  very  small  voice. 

"No,  I  can't,"  said  Scott  firmly. 

She  sent  him  a  darting  glance.  "Are  you  angry  with 
me?"  she  said. 

"I!"  said  Scott  in  amazement. 

"You — spoke  as  if  you  were,"  she  said.  "And  you 
looked — quite  grim. " 

He  laughed  a  little.  "If  you  are  afraid  of  me,  you  must 
indeed  be  easily  frightened.  No,  of  course  I  am  not  angry. 
Dinah !  Dinah !  Don't  be  silly ! ' ' 

Her  lips  were  quivering,  but  in  response  to  his  admonish- 
ing tone  she  forced  them  to  smile.  "I  know  I  am  silly," 
she  said,  with  an  effort.  "I — I'm  not  nearly  good  enough 
for  Eustace.  And  I'm  a  dreadful  little  coward,  I  know. 
But  he  does  frighten  me.  When  he  kisses  me — I  always 
want  to  run  away. " 

"But  you  wouldn't  like  it  if  he  didn't,"  said  Scott,  in 
the  voice  of  the  philosopher. 

"Shouldn't  I?"  said  Dinah.  "I  wonder.  It— wouldn't 
be  him,  would  it?" 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  do  when  you  are  married?" 
said  Scott,  point  blank.  ' '  You'll  see  much  more  of  him  then." 


Doubting  Castle  323 

"Oh,  I  expect  I  shall  feel  different  then,"  said  Dinah. 
"Married  people  are  different,  aren't  they?  They  are  not 
always  going  off  by  themselves  and  kissing  in  corners. " 

"Not  as  a  rule,"  admitted  Scott.  "But  I've  been  told 
that  there  is  usually  a  good  deal  of  that  sort  of  thing 
done  during  the  honeymoon. " 

"That's  different  too,"  Dinah's  voice  was  slightly 
dubious  notwithstanding.  "But  we  are  not  on  our  honey- 
moon yet.  Scott,  couldn't  you — just  for  once — help  me  to 
— to  find  an  excuse  not  to  go?  It  would  be — so  dear  of 
you." 

She  spoke  with  earnest  entreaty,  her  eyes  frankly  raised 
to  his. 

Scott  looked  into  them  with  steady  searching  before  he 
finally  responded.  "I  will  speak  to  him  if  you  like.  I 
don't  know  that  I  shall  be  successful.  But — if  you  wish  it 
—I  will  try." 

"Oh,  thank  you,"  she  said.  "Thank  you."  And  then 
quickly,  "You're  sure  you  don't  mind?  Sure  you're  not 
afraid?" 

"Oh,  quite  sure  of  that,"  said  Scott. 

Her  eyes  expressed  open  admiration.  "I  can't  think 
how  you  manage  not  to  be, "  she  said. 

He  smiled  with  a  touch  of  sadness.  "Perhaps  I  am  not 
so  weak  as  I  look, "  he  said. 

"You — weak!"  said  Dinah.  "Why,  you  are  the  strong- 
est man  I  ever  met. " 

Scott  smothered  a  sudden  sigh.  "Which  only  proves 
how  very  little  you  know  about  me, "  he  said. 

But  Dinah  shook  her  head,  wholly  unconvinced.  Here  at 
least  she  was  absolutely  sure  of  her  ground. 

"'Mr.  Greatheart  was  a  strong  man,'"  she  quoted, 
"  'and  he  was  not  afraid  of  a  Lion." 

"There  are  sometimes  worse  things  than  lions  in  the 
path,"  said  Scott  gravely. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  VICTORY 

HTHE  return  of  Sir  Eustace,  marshalling  the  Vicar  before 
•»•  him,  put  an  end  to  further  confidences. 

Dinah  rose  nervously  to  receive  the  new-comer — a  tall, 
thin  man,  elderly,  with  a  grave,  intellectual  face  and 
courteous  manner,  who  looked  at  her  with  a  gleam  of  sur- 
prise as  he  took  her  shyly  proffered  hand. 

"It  is  a  great  privilege  to  meet  you,"  he  said  then,  and 
Dinah  perceived  at  once  that  he  had  prepared  that  remark 
for  someone  much  more  imposing  than  herself,  and  had  not 
time  to  readjust  it. 

She  thanked  him ,  and  he  sat  down  at  Scott's  invitation  and 
fell  into  a  troubled  silence. 

Sir  Eustace  was  looking  decidedly  formidable,  and  it  was 
not  difficult  to  see  that  he  had  just  given  an  unqualified 
refusal  to  his  visitor's  earnest  request. 

It  was  Scott  as  usual  who  came  to  the  rescue,  breaking 
through  the  Vicar's  abstraction  to  ask  for  details  concerning 
certain  additions  that  were  being  made  to  the  Cottage 
Hospital.  He  drew  Dinah  also  into  the  conversation,  tak- 
ing it  for  granted  that  she  would  be  interested;  and  pres- 
ently Mr.  Grey  brightened  somewhat,  launching  into  what 
was  evidently  a  favourite  topic. 

"We  are  hoping,"  he  said,  "that  the  new  wing  will  be 
completed  by  the  end  of  June,  and  it  is  expected  that  the 

324 


The  Victory  325 

Parish  Council  will  request  Lady  Studley  to  be  good 
enough  to  declare  it  open." 

He  looked  at  Dinah  with  the  words,  and  she  realized  their 
significance  with  a  sharp  shock.  "Oh,  do  you  mean 
me?"  she  said.  "I  don't  think  I  could." 

"It  wouldn't  be  a  very  difficult  business,"  said  Scott 
reassuringly. 

"Oh,  I  couldn't!"  she  said.  "Why — why,  there  would 
be  crowds  of  people,  wouldn't  there?" 

"I  hope  to  get  a  few  of  the  County,"  said  Mr.  Grey,  "to 
support  you. " 

"That  makes  it  worse,"  said  Dinah. 

Scott  laughed.  "Eustace  and  I  will  come  too  and  take 
care  of  you.  You  see,  the  Lady  of  the  Manor  has  to  do 
these  tiresome  things. " 

"Oh !  I'll  come  if  you  want  me, "  said  Dinah.  "But  I've 
never  done  anything  like  that  before  and  I  can't  think 
what  the  County  will  say.  You  see,  I  don't  belong. " 

"Snap  your  fingers  in  its  face,  and  it  won't  bite  you!" 
said  Eustace.  "You  will  belong  by  that  time." 

Mr.  Grey  smiled  a  very  kindly  smile  that  had  in  it  a 
touch  of  compassion.  He  said  nothing,  but  in  a  few  min- 
utes he  rose  to  take  his  leave,  and  then,  with  Dinah's  hand 
held  for  a  moment  in  his,  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  "I  wish  I 
might  enlist  your  sympathy  on  behalf  of  one  of  my  parish- 
ioners. His  wife  is  dying  of  cancer,  and  he  is  to  be  sent  to 
gaol  for  poaching." 

"Oh!"  Dinah  exclaimed  in  distress. 

She  looked  quickly  across  at  her  fiance,  and  saw  that  his 
brow  was  dark. 

He  said  nothing  whatever,  and  she  went  to  him  impul- 
sively. "Eustace,  must  you  send  him  to  prison?" 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  second,  then  turned,  without 
responding,  to  the  Vicar.  "That  was  a  very  unnecessary 
move  on  your  part,  sir, "  he  said  icily.  "  I  have  told  you  my 


326  Greatheart 

decision  in  the  matter,  and  there  it  must  rest.  Justice  is 
justice. " 

Dinah  was  looking  at  him  very  pleadingly;  he  laid  his 
hand  upon  her  arm,  and  she  felt  his  fingers  close  with  a 
strong,  restraining  pressure. 

Mr.  Grey  turned  to  go.  "I  make  no  excuse,  Sir  Eus- 
tace," he  said.  "I  am  begging  for  mercy,  not  justice. 
My  cause  is  urgent.  If  one  weapon  fails,  I  must  employ 
another. " 

He  went  out  with  Scott,  and  Dinah  was  left  alone  with 
Sir  Eustace. 

He  spoke  at  once,  sternly  and  briefly,  before  she  had 
time  to  open  her  lips.  "Dinah,  this  is  no  matter  for  your 
interference.  I  forbid  you  to  pursue  it  any  further." 

His  tone  was  crushingly  absolute;  she  saw  that  he  was 
white  with  anger. 

She  felt  the  colour  die  out  of  her  own  cheeks  as  she 
faced  him.  But  the  Vicar's  few  words  had  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  her;  she  forced  back  her  fear. 

"But,  Eustace,  is  it  true?"  she  said.  "Is  the  man's 
wife  really  dying?  If  so — if  so — surely  you  will  let  him 
off!" 

His  grasp  upon  her  arm  tightened.  "Are  you  going  to 
disobey  me?"  he  said  warningly. 

His  look  was  terrible,  but  she  braved  it.  "Yes — yes, 
I  am,"  she  said,  with  desperate  courage.  "Eustace,  I've 
never  asked  you  to  do  anything  before.  Couldn't  you — 
can't  you — do  this  one  thing?" 

She  met  the  blazing  wrath  of  his  eyes  though  her  heart 
felt  stiff  with  fear.  It  had  come  so  suddenly,  this  ordeal, 
but  she  braced  herself  to  meet  it.  Horrible  though  it  was 
to  withstand  him,  the  thought  came  to  her  that  if  she  did 
not  make  the  effort  just  once  she  would  never  have  the 
strength  again. 

"You  think  me  very  impertinent,"  she  said,  speaking 


The  Victory  327 

quickly  through  quivering  lips.  "But — but — I  have  a 
right  to  speak.  If  I  am  to  be — your  wife,  you  must  not 
treat  me  as — a  servant. " 

She  saw  his  look  change.  The  anger  went  out  of  it,  but 
something  that  was  more  terrible  to  her  took  its  place, 
something  that  she  could  not  meet. 

She  flinched  involuntarily,  and  in  the  same  moment  he 
drew  her  close  to  him.  "Ah,  Daphne,  the  adorable!"  he 
said.  "  I've  never  seen  you  at  bay  before !  You  claim  your 
privileges,  do  you?  You  think  I  can  refuse  you  nothing?" 

She  shrank  at  his  tone — the  mastery  of  it,  the  confidence, 
the  caress. 

"You  needn't  be  afraid,"  he  said,  and  bent  his  face  to 
hers.  "Whatever  you  wish  is  law.  But  don't  forget  one 
thing !  If  I  refuse  you  nothing,  I  must  have  everything  in 
exchange.  'Love  the  gift  is  Love  the  debt, '  my  Daphne. 
You  must  give  me  freely  all  that  you  have  in  return. " 

She  trembled  in  his  embrace.  Those  passionate  words 
of  his  frightened  her  anew.  Was  it  possible — would  it  ever 
be  possible — to  give  him — freely — all  that  she  had? 

The  doubt  shot  through  her  like  the  stab  of  a  dagger 
even  while  she  gave  him  the  kiss  he  demanded  for  her 
audacity.  Her  victory  over  him  amazed  her.  so  appalling 
had  seemed  the  odds.  But  in  a  fashion  it  dismayed  her 
too.  He  was  too  mighty  a  giant  to  kneel  at  her  feet  for 
long.  He  would  exact  payment  in  full,  she  was  sure,  she 
was  sure,  for  all  that  he  gave  her  now. 

She  was  thankful  when  a  ceremonious  knock  at  the  door 
compelled  him  to  release  her.  Biddy  presented  herself 
very  upright,  primly  correct. 

"If  ye  please,  Miss  Dinah,  Mrs.  Everard  is  awake  and 
will  be  pleased  to  see  ye  whenever  it  suits  fye  to  go  to  her 
at  all." 

"Oh,  I'll  go  now,"  said  Dinah  with  relief.  She  glanced 
at  Eustace.  "You  don't  mind?  You  don't  want  me?" 


328  Greatheart 

"No,  I  have  some  business  to  discuss  with  Stumpy,"  he 
said.  "Perhaps  I  will  join  you  presently." 

He  took  out  a  cigarette  and  lighted  it,  and  Dinah  turned 
and  went  away  with  the  old  woman. 

"And  it's  to  be  hoped  he'll  do  nothing  of  the  kind," 
remarked  Biddy,  as  they  walked  through  the  long  drawing- 
room.  "For  the  very  thought  of  him  is  enough  to  drive 
poor  Miss  Isabel  scranny,  specially  in  the  evening." 

"Is — is  Miss  Isabel  so  afraid  of  him?"  asked  Dinah 
under  her  breath. 

Biddy  nodded  dandy.  "She  is  that,  Miss  Dinah,  and 
small  blame  to  her. " 

Dinah  pressed  suddenly  close.     "Biddy,  why?" 

Biddy  pursed  her  lips.  "Faith,  and  it's  meself  that's 
afraid,  ye'll  find  the  answer  to  that  only  too  soon,  Miss 
Dinah  dear!"  she  said  solemnly.  "I  can't  tell  ye  the 
straight  truth.  Ye  wouldn't  believe  me  if  I  did.  Ye  must 
watch  for  yourself,  me  jewel.  Ye've  got  a  woman's  intelli- 
gence. Don't  ye  be  afraid  to  use  it!" 

It  was  the  soundest  piece  of  advice  that  she  had  ever 
heard  from  Biddy's  lips,  and  Dinah  accepted  it  in  silence. 
She  had  known  for  some  time  that  Biddy  had  small  love  for 
Sir  Eustace,  but  it  was  evident  that  the  precise  reason  for 
this  was  not  to  be  conveyed  in  words.  She  wished  she 
could  have  persuaded  her  to  be  more  explicit,  but  something 
held  her  back  from  attempting  to  gain  the  information  that 
Biddy  withheld.  It  was  better — surely  it  was  sometimes 
better — not  to  know  too  much. 

They  met  Scott  as  they  turned  out  of  the  drawing- 
room,  and  .Biddy's  grim  old  face  softened  at  the  sight 
of  him. 

He  paused:  "Hullo!  Going  to  Isabel?  Has  she  had  a 
good  rest,  Biddy?" 

"Glory  to  goodness,  Master  Scott,  she  has!"  said  Biddy 
fervently. 


The  Victory  329 

"That's  all  right."  Scott  prepared  to  pass  on.  "Eus- 
tace hasn't  gone,  I  suppose?" 

"No,  he  is  in  there,  waiting  for  you."  Dinah  detained 
him  for  a  moment.  "Scott,  he — I  think  he  is  going  to — to 
let  that  man  off  with  a  light  sentence. " 

"What?"  said  Scott.  "Dinah,  you  witch!  How  on 
earth  did  you  do  it?" 

He  looked  so  pleased  that  her  heart  gave  a  throb  of 
triumph.  It  had  been  well  worth  while  just  to  win  that 
look  from  him. 

She  smiled  back  at  him.  "I  don't  know.  I  really  don't 
know.  But, — Scott" — she  became  a  little  breathless — 
"if — if  he  really  wants  me  to-morrow,  I  think — p'raps — I'd 
better  go. " 

Scott  gave  her  his  straight,  level  look.  There  was  a 
moment's  pause  before  he  said,  "Wait  till  to-morrow  comes 
anyway!"  and  with  that  he  was  gone,  limping  through  the 
great  room  with  that  steady  but  unobtrusive  purpose 
that  ever,  to  Dinah's  mind,  redeemed  him  from  insig- 
nificance. 

"Ah!  He's  the  gentleman  is  Master  Scott,"  said 
Biddy's  voice  at  her  side.  "  Ye'll  never  meet  his  like  in  all 
the  world.  It's  a  sad  life  he  leads,  poor  young  gentleman, 
but  he  keeps  a  brave  heart  though  never  a  single  joy  comes 
his  way.  May  the  Almighty  reward  him  and  give  him  his 
desire  before  it's  too  late. " 

"What  desire?"  asked  Dinah. 

Biddy  shot  her  a  lightning  glance  from  her  beady  eyes 
ere  again  mysteriously  she  shook  her  head. 

"And  it's  the  innocent  lamb  that  ye  are  entirely,  Miss 
Dinah  dear, "  she  said. 

With  which  enigmatical  answer  Dinah  was  forced  to  be 
content. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE    BURDEN 

SIR  EUSTACE  was  standing  by  the  window  of  the 
little  boudoir  when  his  brother  entered,  and  Scott 
joined  him  there.  He  also  lighted  a  cigarette,  and  they 
smoked  together  in  silence  for  several  seconds. 

Finally  Eustace  turned  with  his  faint,  supercilious  smile. 
' '  What's  the  matter,  Stumpy  ?  Something  on  your  mind  ? ' ' 

Scott  met  his  look.  "Something  I've  got  to  say  to  you 
anyway,  old  chap,  that  rather  sticks  in  my  gullet. " 

Sir  Eustace  laughed.  "You  carry  conscience  enough 
for  the  two  of  us.  What  is  it?  Fire  a  way!" 

Scott  puffed  at  his  cigarette.  "You  won't  like  it,"  he 
observed.  "But  it's  got  to  be  said.  Look  here,  Eustace! 
It's  all  very  well  to  be  in  love.  But  you're  carrying  it  too 
far.  The  child's  downright  afraid  of  you." 

' '  Has  she  told  you  so  ? "  demanded  Eustace.  A  hot  gleam 
suddenly  shone  in  his  blue  eyes.  He  looked  down  at 
Scott  with  a  frown. 

Scott  shook  his  head.  "If  she  had,  I  shouldn't  tell  you 
so.  But  the  fact  remains.  You're  a  bit  of  an  ogre,  you 
know,  always  have  been.  Slack  off  a  bit,  there's  a  good 
fellow !  You'll  find  it's  worth  it. " 

He  spoke  with  the  utmost  gentleness,  but  there  was  de- 
termination in  his  quiet  eyes.  Having  spoken,  he  turned 
them  upon  the  garden  again  and  resumed  his  cigarette. 

There  fell  a  brief  silence  between  them.  Sir  Eustace 

330 


The  Burden  331 

was  no  longer  smoking.  His  frown  had  deepened.  Sud- 
denly he  laid  his  hand  upon  Scott's  shoulder. 

"It's  my  turn  now,"  he  said.  "I've  something  to  say 
to  you. " 

"Well?"  said  Scott.  He  stiffened  a  little  at  the  hold 
upon  him,  but  he  did  not  attempt  to  frustrate  it. 

' '  Only  this. ' '  Eustace  pressed  upon  him  as  one  who  would 
convey  a  warning.  "You've  interfered  with  me  more  than 
once  lately,  and  I've  borne  with  it — more  or  less  patiently. 
But  I'm  not  going  to  bear  with  it  much  longer.  You  may 
be  useful  to  me,  but — you're  not  indispensable.  Remember 
that!" 

Scott  started  at  the  words,  as  a  well-bred  horse  starts  at 
the  flicker  of  the  whip.  He  controlled  himself  instantly, 
but  his  eyelids  quivered  a  little  as  he  answered,  "  I  will 
remember  it. " 

Sir  Eustace's  hand  fell.  "I  think  that  is  all  that  need 
be  said, "  he  observed.  "We  will  get  to  business. " 

He  turned  from  the  window,  but  in  the  same  moment 
Scott  wheeled  also  and  took  him  by  the  arm.  "One  mo- 
ment ! "  he  said.  ' '  Eustace,  we  are  not  going  to  quarrel  over 
this.  You  don't  imagine,  do  you,  that  I  interfere  with  you 
in  this  way  for  my  own  pleasure?" 

He  spoke  urgently,  an  odd  wistfulness  in  voice  and 
gesture. 

Sir  Eustace  paused.  The  sternness  still  lingered  in  his 
eyes  though  his  face  softened  somewhat  as  he  said,  "I 
haven't  gone  into  the  question  of  motives,  Stumpy.  I  have 
no  doubt  they  are — like  yourself — very  worthy,  though  it 
might  not  soothe  me  greatly  to  know  what  they  are." 

Scott  still  held  his  arm.  "Oh,  man,"  he  said  very 
earnestly,  "don't  miss  the  best  thing  in  life  for  want  of  a 
little  patience!  She's  such  a  child.  She  doesn't  under- 
stand. For  your  own  sake  give  her  time! " 

There  was  that  in  his  tone  that  somehow  made  further 


332  Greatheart 

offence  impossible.  A  faint,  half -grudging  smile  took  the 
place  of  the  grimness  on  his  brother's  face. 

' '  You  take  things  so  mighty  seriously, ' '  he  said .  ' '  What's 
the  matter?  What  has  she  been  saying?" 

Scott  hesitated.  "  I  can't  tell  you  that.  I  imagine  it  is 
more  what  she  doesn't  say  that  makes  me  realize  the  state 
of  her  mind.  I  can  tell  you  one  thing.  She  would  rather 
go  shopping  with  Isabel  to-morrow  than  picnicking  in  the 
wilderness  with  you,  and  if  you're  wise,  you'll  give  in  and  let 
her  go.  You'll  run  a  very  grave  risk  of  losing  her  altogether 
if  you  ask  too  much. " 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Eustace's  voice  was  short  and 
stern;  the  question  was  like  a  sword  thrust. 

Again  Scott  hesitated.  Then  very  steadily  he  made 
reply.  "I  mean  that — with  or  without  reason,  you  know 
best — she  is  beginning  not  to  trust  you.  It  is  more  than 
mere  shyness  with  her.  She  is  genuinely  frightened. " 

His  words  went  into  silence,  and  in  the  silence  he  took 
out  his  handkerchief  and  wiped  his  forehead.  It  had  been  a 
more  difficult  interview  for  him  than  Eustace  would  ever 
realize.  His  powers  of  endurance  were  considerable,  but  he 
had  an  almost  desperate  desire  now  to  escape. 

But  some  instinct  kept  him  where  he  was.  To  fail  at  the 
last  moment  for  lack  of  perseverance  would  have  been 
utterly  uncharacteristic  of  him.  It  was  his  custom  to 
stand  his  ground  to  the  last,  whatever  the  cost. 

And  so  he  forced  himself  to  wait  while  his  brother  con- 
templated the  unpleasant  truth  that  he  had  imparted. 
He  knew  that  it  was  not  in  his  nature  to  spend  long  over 
the  process,  but  he  was  still  by  no  means  sure  of  the  final 
result. 

Eustace  spoke  at  length  very  suddenly.  "See  here, 
Stumpy ! "  he  said.  ' '  There  may  be  something  in  what  you 
say,  and  there  may  not.  But  in  any  case,  you  and  Dinah 
are  getting  altogether  too  intimate  and  confidential  to  please 


The  Burden  333 

me.     It's  up  to  you  to  put  the  brake  on  a  bit.     Under- 
stand?" 

He  smiled  as  he  said  it,  but  there  was  a  gleam  as  of  cold 
steel  behind  his  smile. 

Scott  straightened  himself.  It  was  as  if  something 
within  him  leapt  to  meet  the  steel.  Spent  though  he 
was,  this  was  a  matter  no  man  could  shirk. 

"I  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  he  said.  "Do  you 
think  I'd  destroy  her  trust  in  me  too?  I'd  sell  my  soul 
sooner. " 

The  words  were  passionate,  and  the  man  as  he  uttered 
them  seemed  suddenly  galvanized  with  a  new  force,  a  force 
irresistible,  elemental,  even  sublime.  The  elder  brother's 
brows  went  up  in  amazement.  He  did  not  know  Stumpy 
in  that  mood.  He  found  himself  confronted  with  a  power 
colossal  manifested  in  the  meagre  frame,  and  before  that 
power  instinctively,  wholly  involuntarily,  he  gave  ground. 

"  I  see  you  mean  to  please  yourself, "  he  said,  and  turned 
to  go  with  a  sub-conscious  feeling  that  if  he  lingered  he 
would  have  the  worst  of  it.  "But  I  warn  you  if  you  get 
in  my  way,  you'll  be  kicked.  So  look  out!" 

It  was  not  a  conciliatory  speech,  but  it  was  the  outcome 
of  undoubted  discomfiture.  He  was  so  accustomed  to 
submission  from  Scott  that  he  had  come  to  look  upon  it 
as  inevitable.  His  sudden  self-assertion  was  oddly  dis- 
concerting. 

.  So  also  was  the  laugh  that  followed  his  threat,  a  careless 
laugh  wholly  devoid  of  bitterness  which  yet  in  some  fashion 
inexplicable  pierced  his  armour,  making  him  feel  ashamed. 

"You  know  exactly  what  I  think  of  that  sort  of  thing, 
don't  you?"  Scott  said.  "That's  the  best  of  having  no 
special  physical  attractions.  One  doesn't  need  to  think  of 
appearances." 

Sir  Eustace  made  no  rejoinder.  He  could  think  of 
nothing  to  say;  for  he  knew  that  Scott's  attitude  was 


334  Greatheart 

absolutely  sincere.  For  physical  suffering  he  cared  not  one 
jot.  The  indomitable  spirit  of  the  man  lifted  him  above  it. 
He  was  fashioned  upon  the  same  lines  as  the  men  who  faced 
the  lions  of  Rome.  No  bodily  pain  could  ever  daunt  him. 

He  went  from  the  room  haughtily  but  in  his  heart  he 
carried  an  odd  misgiving  that  burned  and  spread  like  a  slow 
fire,  consuming  his  pride.  Scott  had  withstood  him,  Scott 
the  weakling,  and  in  so  doing  had  made  him  aware  of  a 
strength  that  exceeded  his  own. 

As  for  Scott,  the  moment  he  was  alone  he  drew  a  great 
breath  of  relief,  and  almost  immediately  after  opened  the 
French  window  and  passed  quietly  out  into  the  garden. 

The  dusk  was  falling,  and  the  air  smote  chill;  yet  he 
moved  slowly  forth,  closing  the  window  behind  him  and  so 
down  into  the  desolate  shrubberies  where  he  paced  for  a 
long,  long  time.  .  .  . 

When  he  went  to  Isabel's  room  more  than  an  hour  later, 
his  eyes  were  heavy  with  weariness,  and  he  moved  like  a 
man  who  bears  a  burden. 

She  was  alone,  and  looked  up  at  his  entrance  with  a  smile 
of  welcome.  "Come  and  sit  down,  Stumpy!  I've  seen 
nothing  of  you.  Dinah  has  only  just  left  me.  She  tells  me 
Eustace  is  talking  of  a  picnic  for  to-morrow,  but  really  she 
ought  to  give  her  mind  to  her  trousseau  if  she  is  ever  to  be 
ready  in  time.  Do  you  think  Eustace  can  be  induced  to  see 
reason?" 

"  I  don't  know, "  Scott  said.  He  seated  himself  by  Isabel's 
side  and  leaned  back  against  the  cushions,  closing  his  eyes. 

"You  are  tired,"  she  said  gently. 

"Oh,  only  a  little,  Isabel!"  He  spoke  without  moving, 
making  no  effort  to  veil  his  weariness  from  her. 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  she  said. 

"I  am  very  anxious  about  Dinah. "  He  spoke  the  words 
deliberately;  his  face  remained  absolutely  still  and  expres- 
sionless. 


The  Burden  335 

"Anxious,  Stumpy!"  Isabel  echoed  the  word  quickly, 
almost  as  though  it  gave  her  relief  to  speak.  "Oh,  so  am  I 
— terribly  anxious.  She  is  so  young,  so  utterly  unprepared 
for  marriage.  I  believe  she  is  frightened  to  death  when  she 
lets  herself  stop  to  think." 

"I  blame  myself,"  Scott  said  heavily. 

"My  dear,  why?"  Isabel's  hand  sought  and  held  his. 
"How  could  you  be  to  blame?" 

"I  forced  it  on,"  he  said.  "I — in  a  way — compelled 
Eustace  to  propose.  He  wasn't  serious  till  then.  I  made 
him  serious." 

"Oh,  Stumpy,  you!"  Incredulity  and  reproach  mingled 
in  Isabel's  tone. 

She  would  have  withdrawn  her  hand,  but  his  fingers 
closed  upon  it.  "I  made  a  mistake,"  he  said,  with  dreary 
conviction,  "a  great  mistake,  though  God  knows  I  meant 
well;  and  now  it  is  out  of  my  power  to  set  it  right.  I 
thought  her  heart  was  involved.  I  know  now  it  was  not. 
It's  hard  on  him  too  in  a  way,  because  he  is  very  much  in 
earnest  now,  whatever  he  was  before.  I  was  a  fool — I  was  a 
fool — not  to  let  things  take  their  course.  She  would  have 
suffered,  but  it  would  have  been  soon  over.  Whereas 
now — "  He  stopped  himself  abruptly.  "It's  no  good 
talking.  There's  nothing  to  be  done.  He  may — after 
marriage — break  her  in  to  loving  him,  but  if  he  does — 
if  he  does — "  his  hand  clenched  with  sudden  force  upon 
Isabel's — "it  won't  be  Dinah  any  more,"  he  said.  "  It'll  be 
— another  woman;  one  who  is  satisfied  with — a  very  little. " 

His  hand  relaxed  as  suddenly  as  it  had  closed.  He  lay 
still  with  a  face  like  marble. 

Isabel  sat  motionless  by  his  side  for  several  seconds. 
She  was  gazing  straight  before  her  with  eyes  that  seemed 
to  read  the  future. 

"How  did  you  compel  him  to  propose?"  she  asked 
presently. 


336  Greatheart 

He  shrugged  his  narrow  shoulders  slightly.  "I  can  do 
these  things,  Isabel,  if  I  try.  But  I  wish  I'd  killed  myself 
now  before  I  interfered.  As  I  tell  you,  I  was  a  fool — 
a  fool." 

He  ceased  to  speak  and  sat  in  the  silence  of  a  great 
despair. 

Isabel  said  nought  to  comfort  him.  Her  tragic  eyes 
still  seemed  to  be  gazing  into  the  future. 

After  many  minutes  Scott  turned  his  head  and  looked  at 
her.  "Isabel,  I  wish  you  would  try  to  keep  her  with  you 
as  much  as  possible.  Tell  Eustace  what  you  have  just 
told  me !  There  is  certainly  no  time  to  lose  if  she  is  really 
to  be  married  in  three  weeks  from  now." 

"I  suppose  he  would  never  consent  to  put  it  off,"  Isabel 
said  slowly. 

"He  certainly  would  not."  Scott  rose  with  a  restless 
movement  that  said  more  than  words.  "He  is  on  fire  for 
her.  Can't  you  see  it?  There  is  nothing  to  be  done  unless 
she  herself  wishes  to  be  released.  And  I  don't  think  that  is 
very  likely  to  happen." 

"He  would  never  give  her  up,"  Isabel  said  with  con- 
viction. 

"If  she  desired  it,  he  would,"  Scott's  reply  held  an  even 
more  absolute  finality. 

Isabel  looked  at  him  for  a  moment;  then:  "Yes,  but  the 
poor  little  thing  would  never  dare,"  she  said.  "Besides — 
besides — there  is  the  glamour  of  it  all." 

"Yes,  there  is  the  glamour. "  Scott  spoke  with  a  kind  of 
grim  compassion.  "The  glamour  may  carry  her  through. 
If  so,  then — possibly — it  may  soften  life  for  her  afterwards. 
It  may  even  turn  into  romance.  Who  knows?  But — in 
any  case — there  will  probably  be — compensations. " 

"Ah!"  Isabel  said.  A  wonderful  light  shone  for  a 
moment  in  her  eyes  and  died;  she  turned  her  face  aside. 
"Compensations  don't  come  to  everyone,  Stumpy,"  she 


The  Burden  337 

said.  "What  if  the  glamour  fades  and  they  don't  come  to 
take  its  place?" 

Scott  was  standing  before  the  fire,  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
its  red  depths.  His  shoulders  were  still  bent,  as  though 
they  bore  a  burden  well-nigh  overwhelming.  An  odd  little 
spasm  went  over  his  face  at  her  words. 

"Then — God  help  my  Dinah!"  he  said  almost  under  his 
breath. 

In  the  silence  that  followed  the  words,  Isabel  rose  impul- 
sively, came  to  him,  and  slipped  her  hand  through  his  arm. 

She  neither  looked  at  him  nor  spoke,  and  in  silence  the 
matter  passed. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  HOURS  OF  DARKNESS 

DINAH  could  not  sleep  that  night.  For  the  first  time 
in  all  her  healthy  young  life  she  lay  awake  with  grim 
care  for  a  bed-fellow.  When  in  trouble  she  had  always  wept 
herself  to  sleep  before,  but  to-night  she  did  not  weep.  She 
lay  wide-eyed,  feeling  hot  and  cold  by  turns  as  the  memory 
of  her  lover's  devouring  passion  and  Biddy's  sinister  words 
alternated  in  her  brain.  What  was  the  warning  that  Biddy 
had  meant  to  convey?  And  how — oh,  how — would  she 
ever  face  the  morrow  and  its  fierce,  prolonged  courtship, 
from  the  bare  thought  of  which  every  fibre  of  her  being 
shrank  in  shamed  dismay? 

"There  won't  be  any  of  me  left  by  night, "  she  told  her- 
self, as  she  sought  to  cool  her  burning  face  against  the  pillow. 
"Oh,  I  wish  he  didn't  love  me  quite  so  terribly." 

It  was  no  good  attempting  to  bridle  wish  or  fears.  They 
were  far  too  insistent.  She  was  immured  in  the  very 
dungeons  of  Doubting  Castle,  and  no  star  shone  in  her 
darkness. 

Towards  morning  her  restlessness  became  unendurable. 
She  arose  and  tremblingly  paced  the  room,  sick  with  a 
nameless  apprehension  that  seemed  to  deprive  her  alike  of 
the  strength  to  walk  or  to  be  still. 

Her  whole  body  was  in  a  fever  as  though  it  had  been 
scourged  with  thongs;  in  fact,  she  still  seemed  to  feel  the 
scourge,  goading  her  on. 

338 


The  Hours  of  Darkness  339 

To  and  fro,  to  and  fro,  she  wandered,  scarcely  knowing 
what  she  wanted,  only  urged  by  that  unbearable  restless- 
ness that  gave  her  no  respite.  Of  the  future  ahead  of  her 
she  did  not  definitely  think.  Her  marriage  still  seemed  too 
intangible  a  matter  for  serious  contemplation.  She  still  in 
her  child's  heart  believed  that  marriage  would  make  a 
difference.  He  would  not  make  such  ardent  love  to  her 
when  they  were  married.  They  would  both  have  so  many 
other  things  to  think  about.  It  was  the  present  that  so 
weighed  upon  her,  her  lover's  almost  appalling  intensity  of 
worship  and  her  own  utter  inadequacy  and  futility. 

Again,  as  often  before,  the  question  arose  within  her, 
How  would  Rose  have  met  the  situation  ?  Would  she  have 
been  dismayed?  Would  she  have  shrunk  from  those  fiery 
kisses?  Or  could  she — could  she  possibly — have  remained 
calm  and  complacent  and  dignified  in  the  midst  of  those 
surging  tempests  of  love?  But  yet  again  she  failed  com- 
pletely to  picture  Rose  so  mastered,  so  possessed,  by  any 
man ;  Rose  the  queen  whom  all  men  worshipped  with  rever- 
ence from  afar.  She  wondered  again  how  Sir  Eustace  had 
managed  to  elude  the  subtle  charm  she  cast  upon  all  about 
her.  He  had  actually  declared  that  her  perfection  bored 
him.  It  was  evident  that  she  left  him  cold.  Dinah 
marvelled  at  the  fact,  so  certain  was  she  that  had  he 
humbled  himself  to  ask  for  Rose's  favour  it  would  have  been 
instantly  and  graciously  accorded  to  him. 

It  would  have  saved  a  lot  of  trouble  if  he  had  fallen 
in  love  with  Rose,  she  reflected ;  and  then  the  old  thrill  of 
triumph  went  through  her,  temporarily  buoying  her  up. 
She  had  been  preferred  to  Rose.  She  had  beaten  Rose  on 
her  own  ground,  she  the  little,  insignificant  adjunct  of 
the  de  Vigne  party!  She  was  glad — oh,  she  was  very 
glad! — that  Rose  was  to  have  so  close  a  view  of  her  final 
conquest. 

She  began  to  take  comfort  in  the  thought  of  her  approach- 


34°  Greatheart 

ing  wedding  and  all  its  attendant  glories,  picturing  every 
detail  with  girlish  zest.  To  be  the  queen  of  such  a  brilliant 
ceremony  as  that !  To  be  received  into  the  County  as  one 
entering  a  new  world!  To  belong  to  that  Society  from 
which  her  mother  had  been  excluded!  To  be  in  short — 
her  ladyship. 

A  new  excitement  began  to  urge  Dinah.  She  picked  up  a 
towel  and  draped  it  about  her  head  and  shoulders  like  a 
bridal  veil.  Her  mother  would  have  rated  her  for  such 
vanity,  but  for  the  moment  vanity  was  her  only  comfort, 
and  the  thought  of  her  mother  did  not  trouble  her.  This 
was  how  she  would  look  on  her  wedding-day.  There  would 
be  a  wreath  of  orange-blossoms  of  course;  Isabel  would 
see  to  that.  And — yes,  Isabel  had  said  that  her  bouquet 
should  be  composed  of  lilies-of-the-valley.  She  even  be- 
gan to  wish  it  were  her  wedding  morning. 

The  glamour  spread  like  a  rosy  dawning;  she  forgot  the 
clouds  that  loomed  immediately  ahead.  Standing  there 
in  her  night  attire,  poised  like  a  brown  wood-nymph  on  the 
edge  of  a  pool,  she  asked  herself  for  the  first  time  if  it  were 
possible  that  she  could  have  any  pretensions  to  beauty.  It 
was  not  in  the  least  likely,  of  course.  Her  mother  had 
always  railed  at  her  for  the  plainness  of  her  looks.  Did 
Eustace — did  Scott — think  her  plain?  She  wondered. 
She  wondered. 

A  slight  sound,  the  opening  of  a  window,  in  the  room 
next  to  hers,  made  her  start.  That  was  Isabel's  room. 
What  was  happening?  It  was  three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Could  Isabel  be  ill? 

Very  softly  she  opened  her  own  window  and  leaned  forth. 
It  was  one  of  those  warm  spring  nights  that  come  in  the 
midst  of  March  gales.  There  was  a  scent  of  violets  on  the 
air.  She  thought  again  for  a  fleeting  second  of  Scott  and 
their  walk  through  fairyland  that  morning.  And  then 
she  heard  a  voice,  pitched  very  low  but  throbbing  with  an 


The  Hours  of  Darkness  341 

eagerness  unutterable,  and  at  once  her  thoughts  were 
centred  upon  Isabel. 

"Did  you  call  me,  my  beloved?  I  am  waiting!  I  am 
waiting!"  said  the  voice. 

It  went  forth  into  the  sighing  darkness  of  the  night,  and 
Dinah  held  her  breath  to  listen,  almost  as  if  she  expected 
to  hear  an  answer. 

There  fell  a  long,  long  silence,  and  then  there  came  a 
sound  that  struck  straight  to  her  warm  heart.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  Isabel  was  weeping. 

She  left  her  window  with  the  impetuosity  of  one  actuated 
by  an  impulse  irresistible;  she  crossed  her  own  room,  and 
slipped  out  into  the  dark  passage  just  as  she  was.  A  mo- 
ment or  two  she  fumbled  feeling  her  way;  and  then  her 
hand  found  Isabel's  door.  Softly  she  turned  the  handle, 
opened,  and  peeped  in. 

Isabel  was  on  her  knees  by  the  low  window-sill.  Her 
head  with  its  crown  of  silver  hair  was  bowed  upon  her  arm 
and  they  rested  upon  the  bundle  of  letters  which  Dinah 
had  seen  on  the  very  first  night  that  she  had  seen  Isabel. 
Old  Biddy  hovered  shadow-like  in  the  background.  She 
made  a  sign  to  Dinah  as  she  entered,  but  Dinah  was  too 
intent  upon  her  friend  to  notice. 

Fleet-footed  she  drew  near,  and  as  she  approached  a  long 
bitter  sigh  broke  from  Isabel  and,  following  it,  low-toned 
entreaties  that  pierced  her  anew  with  the  utter  abandon- 
ment of  their  supplication. 

"Oh  God,"  she  prayed  brokenly.  "I  am  so  tired — so 
tired — of  waiting.  Open  the  door  for  me !  Let  me  out  of  my 
prison!  Let  me  find  my  beloved  in  the  dawning — in  the 
dawning!" 

Her  voice  sank,  went  into  piteous  sobbing.  She  crouched 
lower  in  the  depth  of  her  woe. 

Dinah  stooped  over  her  with  a  little  crooning  murmur  of 
pity,  and  gathered  her  close  in  her  arms. 


342  Greatheart 

Isabel  gave  a  great  start.  "Child!"  she  said,  and  then 
she  clasped  Dinah  to  her,  leaning  her  face  against  her  bosom. 

Dinah  was  crying  softly,  but  she  saw  that  Isabel  had  no 
tears.  That  sobbing  came  from  her  broken  heart,  but  it 
brought  no  relief.  The  dark  eyes  burned  with  a  misery 
that  found  no  vent,  save  possibly  in  the  passionate  holding 
of  her  arms. 

"My  darling,"  she  whispered  presently,  "did  I  wake 
you?" 

"No,  dearest,  no!"  Dinah  was  tenderly  caressing  the 
snowy  hair;  she  spoke  with  an  almost  motherly  fondness. 
"I  happened  to  be  awake,  and  I  heard  you  at  the  window." 

"Why  were  you  awake,  darling?     Aren't  you  happy?" 

Quick  anxiety  was  in  the  words.  Dinah  flushed  with  a 
sense  of  guilt. 

"Of  course  I  am  happy,"  she  made  answer.  "What 
more  could  I  have  to  wish  for?  But,  Isabel,  you — you!" 

"Ah,  never  mind  me!"  Isabel  said.  She  rose  with  the 
movement  of  one  who  would  shield  another  from  harm. 
"You  ought  to  be  in  bed,  sweetheart.  Shall  I  come  and 
tuck  you  up?" 

"Come  and  finish  the  night  with  me!"  whispered  Dinah. 
"We  shall  both  be  happy  then. " 

She  scarcely  expected  that  Isabel  would  accede  to  her 
desire,  but  it  seemed  that  Isabel  could  refuse  her  nothing. 
She  turned,  holding  Dinah  closely  to  her. 

"My  good  angel!"  she  murmured  tenderly.  "What 
should  I  do  without  you?  It  is  always  you  who  come  to 
lift  me  out  of  my  inferno. " 

She  left  the  letters  forgotten  on  the  window-sill.  By 
the  simple  outpouring  of  her  love,  Dinah  had  drawn  her  out 
of  her  place  of  torment;  and  she  led  her  now,  leaning 
heavily  upon  her,  through  the  passage  to  her  own  room. 

Biddy  crept  after  them  like  a  wise  old  cat  alert  for  danger. 
"She'll  sleep  now,  Miss  Dinah  darlint, "  she  murmured. 


The  Hours  of  Darkness  343 

"Ye  won't  be  anxious  at  all,  at  all?  It's  meself  that'll 
be  within  call." 

"No,  no!  Go  to  your  own  room  and  sleep,  Biddy!" 
Isabel  said.  "We  are  both  going  to  do  the  same." 

She  sank  into  the  great  double  bed  that  Dinah  had  found 
almost  alarmingly  capacious,  with  a  sigh  of  exhaustion,  and 
Dinah  slipped  in  beside  her.  They  clasped  each  other, 
each  with  a  separate  sense  of  comfort. 

Biddy  tucked  up  first  one  side,  then  the  other,  with  a 
whispered  blessing  for  each. 

"Ah,  the  poor  lambs!"  she  murmured,  as  she  went 
away. 

But  Isabel's  voice  had  reassured  her;  she  did  not  linger 
even  outside  the  door. 

Mumbling  still  below  her  breath  her  inarticulate  beni- 
sons,  Biddy  passed  through  her  mistress's  room  into  her 
own.  She  was  very  tired,  for  she  had  been  watching 
without  intermission  for  nearly  five  hours.  She  almost 
dropped  on  to  her  bed  and  lay  as  she  fell,  deeply  sleeping. 

The  letters  on  •  the  window-sill  were  forgotten  for  the 
rest  of  that  night. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE    NET 

WHEN  Dinah  met  her  lover  in  the  morning  she  found 
him  in  a  surprisingly  indulgent  mood.      The  day 
was  showery,  and  he  announced  his  intention  of  accompany- 
ing them  in  the  car  up  to  town. 

"An  excellent  opportunity  for  selecting  the  wedding- 
ring,"  he  told  her  lightly.  "You  will  like  that  better 
than  a  picnic." 

And  Dinah  in  her  relief  admitted  that  this  was  the  case. 

Up  to  the  last  moment  she  hoped  that  Scott  would 
accompany  them  also,  but  when  she  came>down  dressed  for 
the  expedition  she  found  that  he  had  gone  to  the  library 
to  write  letters.  She  pursued  him  thither,  but  he  would  not 
be  persuaded  to  leave  his  work. 

"Besides,  I  should  only  be  in  the  way, "  he  said.  And 
when  she  vehemently  negatived  this,  he  smiled  and  fell 
back  upon  the  plea  that  he  was  busy. 

Just  at  the  last  she  tried  to  murmur  a  word  of  thanks  to 
him  for  intervening  on  her  behalf  to  induce  Eustace  to 
abandon  the  picnic,  but  he  gently  checked  her. 

"Oh,  please  don't  thank  me ! "  he  said.  "  I  am  not  a  very 
good  meddler,  I  assure  you.  I  hope  you  are  going  to  have 
a  good  day.  Take  care  of  Isabel!" 

Dinah  would  have  lingered  to  tell  him  of  the  night's 
happening,  but  Sir  Eustace  called  her  and  with  a  smile  of 
farewell  she  hastened  away. 

344 


The  Net  345 

She  enjoyed  that  day  with  a  zest  that  banished  all 
misgivings.  Sir  Eustace  insisted  upon  the  purchase  of  the 
ring  at  the  outset,  and  then  she  and  Isabel  went  their  way 
alone,  and  shopped  in  a  fashion  that  raised  Dinah's  spirits 
to  giddy  heights.  She  had  never  seen  or  imagined  such 
exquisite  things  as  Isabel  ordered  on  her  behalf.  The 
hours  slipped  away  in  one  long  dream  of  delight.  Sir 
Eustace  had  desired  them  to  join  him  at  luncheon,  but 
Isabel  had  gravely  refused.  There  would  not  be  time, 
she  said.  They  would  meet  for  tea.  And  somewhat  to 
Dinah's  surprise  he  had  yielded  the  point. 

They  met  for  tea  in  a  Bond  Street  restaurant  and  here 
Sir  Eustace  took  away  his  fiancee  s  breath  by  presenting 
her  with  a  pearl  necklace  to  wear  at  her  wedding. 

She  was  almost  too  overwhelmed  by  the  gift  to  thank 
him.  "Oh,  it's  too  good — it's  too  good!"  she  said,  awe- 
struck by  its  splendour. 

"Nothing  is  too  good  for  my  wife,"  he  said  in  his  im- 
perial fashion. 

Isabel  smiled  the  smile  that  never  reached  her  shadowed 
eyes.  "A  chain  of  pearls  to  bind  a  bride!"  she  said. 

And  the  thought  flashed  upon  Dinah  that  there  was 
truth  in  her  words.  Whether  with  intention  or  not,  by 
every  gift  he  gave  her  he  bound  her  the  more  closely  to 
him.  An  odd  little  sensation  of  dismay  accompanied  it, 
but  she  put  it  resolutely  from  her.  Bound  or  not,  what  did 
it  matter — since  she  had  no  desire  to  escape? 

She  thanked  him  again  very  earnestly  that  night  in  the 
conservatory,  and  he  pressed  her  to  him  and  kissed  the 
neck  on  which  his  pearls  rested  with  the  hot  lips  of  a  thirsty 
man.  But  he  had  himself  under  control,  and  when  she 
sought  to  draw  herself  away  he  let  her  go.  She  wondered 
at  his  forbearance  and  was  mutely  grateful  for  it. 

At  Isabel's  suggestion  she  went  up  to  her  room  early. 
She  was  certainly  weary,  but  she  was  radiantly  happy.  It 


346  Greatheart 

had  been  a  wonderful  day.  The  beauty  of  the  pearls 
dazzled  her.  She  kissed  them  ere  she  laid  them  out  of  sight. 
He  was  good  to  her.  He  was  much  too  good. 

There  came  a  knock  at  the  door  just  as  she  was  getting 
into  bed,  and  Biddy  came  softly  in,  her  brown  face  full  of 
mystery  and,  Dinah  saw  at  a  glance,  of  anxiety  also. 

She  put  up  a  warning  finger  as  she  advanced.  "Whisht, 
Miss  Dinah  darlint!  For  the  love  of  heaven,  don't  ye 
make  a  noise!  I  just  came  in  to  ask  ye  a  question,  for  it's 
worried  to  death  I  am." 

"Why  what's  the  matter,  Biddy?"  Dinah  questioned 
in  surprise. 

"And  ye  may  well  ask,  Miss  Dinah  dear!"  Tragedy 
made  itself  heard  in  Biddy's  rejoinder.  "Sure  it's  them 
letters  of  Miss  Isabel's  that's  disappeared  entirely,  and 
left  no  trace.  And  what'll  I  do  at  all  when  she  comes  to 
ask  for  them?  It's  not  meself  that'll  dare  to  tell  her  as 
they've  gone,  and  she  setting  such  store  by  them.  She'll 
go  clean  out  of  her  mind,  Miss  Dinah,  for  sure,  they've 
been  her  only  comfort,  poor  lamb,  these  seven  years. " 

"But,  Biddy!"  Impulsively  Dinah  broke  in  upon  her, 
her  eyes  round  with  surprise  and  consternation.  "They 
can't  be — gone!  They  must  be  somewhere!  Have  you 
hunted  for  them?  She  left  them  on  the  window-sill,  didn't 
she?  They  must  have  got  put  away. " 

"That  they  have  not!"  declared  Biddy  solemnly.  "It's 
my  belief  that  the  old  gentleman  himself  must  have  spirited 
them  away.  The  window  was  left  open,  ye  know,  Miss 
Dinah,  and  it  was  a  dark  night. " 

"Oh,  Biddy,  nonsense,  nonsense!  One  of  the  servants 
must  have  moved  them  when  she  was  doing  the  room. 
Have  you  asked  everyone?" 

"That  couldn't  have  happened,  Miss  Dinah  dear." 
Unshakable  conviction  was  in  Biddy's  voice.  "I  got  up 
late,  and  I  had  to  get  Miss  Isabel  up  in  a  hurry  to  go  off  in  the 


The  Net  347 

motor.  But  I  missed  the  letters  directly  after  she  was 
gone,  and  I  hadn't  left  the  room — except  to  call  her.  No 
one  had  been  in — not  unless  they  slipped  in  in  those  few 
minutes  while  me  back  was  turned.  And  for  what  should 
anyone  take  such  a  thing  as  them  letters,  Miss  Dinah? 
There  are  no  thieves  in  the  house.  And  them  love-letters 
were  worth  nothing  to  nobody  saving  to  Miss  Isabel,  and 
they  were  the  very  breath  of  life  to  her  when  the  black  mood 
was  on  her.  Whatever  she'll  say — whatever  she'll  do — I 
don't  dare  to  think." 

Poor  Biddy  flourished  her  apron  as  though  she  would 
throw  it  over  her  head.  Her  parchment  face  was  working 
painfully . 

Dinah  sat  on  the  edge  of  her  bed  and  watched  her,  not 
knowing  what  to  say. 

"Where  is  Miss  Isabel?"  she  asked  at  last. 

"She's  still  downstairs  with  Master  Scott,  and  I'm 
expecting  her  up  every  minute.  It's  herself  that  ought  to 
be  in  bed  by  now,  for  she's  tired  out  after  her  long  day; 
but  he'll  be  bringing  her  up  directly  and  then  she'll  ask  for 
her  love-letters.  There's  never  a  night  goes  by  but  what 
she  kisses  them  before  she  lies  down.  When  ye  were  ill, 
Miss  Dinah  dear,  she'd  forget  sometimes,  but  ever  since 
she's  been  alone  again  she's  never  missed,  not  once." 

"Have  you  told  Master  Scott?"  asked  Dinah. 

Biddy  shook  her  head.  "Would  I  add  to  his  burdens, 
poor  young  gentleman?  He'll  know  soon  enough." 

"And  are  you  sure  you've  looked  everywhere — every- 
where?" insisted  Dinah.  "If  no  one  has  taken  them 

"Miss  Dinah,  I've  turned  the  whole  room  upside  down 
and  shaken  it,"  declared  Biddy.  "I'll  take  my  dying 
oath  that  them  letters  have  gone. " 

"Could  they — could  they  possibly  have  fallen  out  of  the 
window?"  hazarded  Dinah. 

"Miss  Dinah  dear,  no!"     A  hint  of  impatience  born  of 


348  Greatheart 

her  distress  was  perceptible  in  the  old  woman's  tone;  she 
turned  to  the  door.  "Well,  well,  it's  no  good  talking. 
Don't  ye  fret  yourself!  What  must  be,  will  be." 

"But  I  think  Scott  ought  to  know,"  said  Dinah. 

"No,  no,  Miss  Dinah!  We'll  not  tell  him  before  we 
need.  He's  got  his  own  troubles.  But  I  wonder — I 
wonder — "  Biddy  paused  with  the  door-handle  in  her  bony 
old  fingers — "how  would  it  be  now,"  she  said  slowly,  "if 
ye  was  to  get  Miss  Isabel  to  sleep  with  ye  again?  She 
forgot  last  night.  It's  likely  she  may  forget  again — unless 
he  calls  her." 

"Biddy!"  exclaimed  Dinah,  startled. 

Biddy's  beady  eyes  gleamed  mysteriously.  "Arrah, 
but  it's  the  truth  I'm  telling  ye,  Miss  Dinah.  He  does  call 
her.  I've  known  him  call  her  when  she's  been  lying  in  a 
deep  sleep,  and  she'll  rise  up  with  her  arms  stretched  out  and 
that  look  in  her  eyes!"  Biddy's  face  crumpled  momen- 
tarily, but  was  swiftly  straightened  again.  "Will  ye  do  it 
then,  Miss  Dinah?  Ye  needn't  be  afraid.  I'll  be  within 
call.  But  when  she's  got  you,  she  don't  seem  to  be  craving 
for  anyone  else.  What  was  it  she  called  ye  only  last  night  ? 
Her  good  angel !  And  so  ye  be,  me  jewel ;  so  ye  be ! " 

Dinah  stood  debating  the  matter.  Biddy's  expedient 
was  of  too  temporary  an  order  to  recommend  itself  to  her. 
She  wondered  why  Scott  should  not  be  consulted,  and  it 
was  with  some  vague  intention  of  laying  the  matter  before 
him  if  an  opportunity  should  occur  that  she  finally  gave 
her  somewhat  hesitating  consent. 

"I  will  do  it  of  course,  Biddy.  I  love  her  to  sleep  with 
me.  But,  you  know,  it  is  bound  to  come  out  some  time, 
unless  you  manage  to  find  the  letters  again.  They  must  be 
somewhere." 

Biddy  shook  her  head.  "We  must  just  leave  that  to  the 
Almighty,  Miss  Dinah  dear,"  she  said  piously.  "There's 
nothing  else  we  can  do  at  all.  I'll  get  back  to  her  room  now, 


The  Net  349 

and  when  she  comes  up,  I'll  tell  her  ye're  feeling  lonely,  and 
will  she  please  to  sleep  with  ye  again.  She  won't  think  of 
anything  else  then  ye  may  be  sure.  Why,  she  worships  the 
very  ground  under  your  feet,  mavourneen,  like — like  some- 
one else  I  know." 

She  was  gone  with  the  words,  leaving  upon  Dinah  a  dim 
impression  that  her  last  words  were  intended  to  convey 
something  which  she  would  have  translated  into  simpler 
language  had  she  been  at  liberty  to  do  so. 

She  did  not  pay  much  attention  to  them.  She  was  too 
troubled  over  her  former  revelation  to  think  seriously  of 
anything  else.  Into  her  mind,  all  unbidden,  had  flashed  a 
sudden  memory,  and  it  held  her  like  a  nightmare- vision. 
She  saw  Sir  Eustace  with  that  imperious  frown  on  his  face 
holding  out  Isabel's  treasure  with  a  curt,  "Take  this  thing 
away!"  She  saw  herself  leap  up  and  seize  it  from  his 
intolerant  grasp.  She  saw  Isabel's  outstretched,  pleading 
hands,  and  the  piteous  hunger  in  her  eyes.  .  .  . 

When  Isabel  came  to  her  that  night,  her  face  was  all 
softened  with  mother-love.  She  drew  Dinah  to  her  breast, 
kissing  her  very  tenderly. 

"Did  you  want  me  to  come  and  take  care  of  you,  my 
darling?" 

Dinah's  heart  smote  her  for  the  deception,  but  she  an- 
swered bravely  enough,  "Oh,  Isabel,  yes,  yes!  You  are  so 
good  to  me,  I  want  you  always." 

"Dear  heart!"  Isabel  said,  with  a  sigh,  and  folded  her 
closer  as  though  she  would  guard  her  against  all  the  world. 

She  was  the  first  to  fall  asleep  notwithstanding,  while 
Dinah  lay  motionless  and  troubled  far  into  the  night.  She 
wished  that  Biddy  would  give  her  permission  to  tell  Scott, 
for  without  that  permission  such  a  step  seemed  like  a 
betrayal  of  confidence.  But  for  some  reason  Biddy  evi- 
dently thought  that  Scott  had  enough  on  his  shoulders  just 
then.  And  so  it  seemed,  she  could  only  wait — only  wait. 


35°  Greatheart 

She  did  not  want  to  burden  Scott  unduly  either,  and  there 
was  something  about  him  just  now,  something  of  a  repress- 
ing nature,  that  held  her  back  from  confiding  in  him  too 
freely.  He  seemed  to  have  raised  a  barrier  between  them 
since  their  return  to  England  which  no  intimacy  ever  quite 
succeeded  in  scaling.  Full  of  brotherly  kindness  though 
he  was,  the  old  frank  fellowship  was  gone.  It  was  as  though 
he  had  realized  her  dependence  upon  him,  and  were  trying 
with  the  utmost  gentleness  to  make  her  stand  alone. 

Dinah  slept  at  last  from  sheer  weariness,  and  forgot  her 
troubles.  She  must  not  tell  Scott,  she  could  not  tell 
Eustace,  and  so  there  was  no  other  course  but  silence.  But 
the  anxiety  of  it  weighed  upon  her  even  through  her  slumber. 
Life  was  far  more  interesting  than  of  yore.  But  never,  never 
before  had  it  been  so  full  of  doubts  and  fears.  The  com- 
plexity of  it  all  was  like  an  endless  net,  enmeshing  her 
however  warily  she  stepped. 

And  always,  and  always,  at  the  back  of  her  mind  there 
lurked  the  dread  conviction  that  one  day  the  net  would  be 
drawn  close,  and  she  would  find  herself  a  helpless  prisoner 
in  the  grip  of  a  giant. 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE   DIVINE   SPARK 

WITH  the  morning  Dinah  found  her  anxieties  less 
oppressive.  Isabel  was  becoming  so  much  more 
like  herself  that  she  was  able  to  put  the  matter  from  her 
and  in  a  measure  forget  it.  Like  Biddy,  she  began  to  hope 
that  by  postponing  the  evil  hour  they  might  possibly  evade 
it  altogether.  For  there  was  nothing  abnormal  about 
Isabel  during  that  day  or  those  that  succeeded  it.  The 
time  passed  quickly.  There  was  much  to  be  done,  much 
to  be  discussed  and  decided,  and  their  thoughts  were  fully 
occupied.  Dinah  felt  as  one  whirled  in  a  torrent.  She 
could  not  think  of  the  great  undercurrent.  She  could 
deal  only  with  the  things  on  the  surface. 

How  that  week  sped  away  she  never  afterwards  fully 
recalled.  It  passed  like  a  fevered  dream.  Two  more 
journeys  to  town  with  Isabel,  the  ordeal  of  a  dinner  at  the 
house  of  a  neighbouring  magnate,  a  much  less  formidable 
tea  at  the  Vicarage,  on  which  occasion  Mr.  Grey  drew 
her  aside  and  thanked  her  for  using  her  influence  over  Sir 
Eustace  in  the  right  direction  and  earnestly  exhorted  her  to 
maintain  and  develop  it  as  far  as  possible  when  she  was 
married,  a  few  riding-lessons  with  Scott  who  always  seemed 
so  much  more  imposing  in  the  saddle  than  out  of  it  and 
knew  so  exactly  how  to  instruct  her,  a  few  wild  races  in  Sir 
Eustace's  car  from  which  she  always  returned  in  a  state  of 
almost  delirious  exultation,  and  then  night  after  night 


352  Greatheart 

the  sleep  of  utter  weariness,  with  Isabel  lying  by  her 
side. 

The  last  night  came  upon  her  almost  with  a  sense  of 
shock.  It.  had  beqome  a  custom  for  her  to  sit  in  the  con- 
servatory with  Sir  Eustace  after  dinner,  and  here  with  the 
lights  turned  low  he  was  wont  to  pour  oat  to  her  all  the 
fiery  worship  which  throughout  the  day  he  curbed.  No  one 
ever  disturbed  them,  but  they  were  close  to  Isabel's  sitting- 
room  where  Scott  was  wont  to  sit  and  read  while  his  sister 
lay  on  her  couch  resting  and  listening.  The  murmur  of 
his  voice  was  audible  to  Dinah,  and  the  knowledge  of  his 
close  proximity  gave  her  a  courage  which  surely  had  not 
been  hers  otherwise.  She  was  learning  how  to  receive  her 
lover's  demonstrations  without  starting  away  in  affright. 
If  he  ever  startled  her,  the  sound  of  Scott's  voice  in  the 
adjoining  room  would  always  reassure  her.  She  knew  that 
Scott  was  at  hand  and  would  never  fail  her. 

But  on  that  last  night  Sir  Eustace  was  more  ardent 
than  she  had  ever  known  him.  He  seemed  to  be  almost 
fiercely  resentful  of  the  coming  separation,  brief  though 
it  was  to  be,  and  he  would  not  suffer  her  out  of  reach  of  his 
hand. 

Wedding  presents  had  begun  to  arrive,  and  in  some 
fashion  they  seemed  to  increase  his  impatience. 

"  I  can't  think  what  we  are  waiting  for, "  he  said,  with  his 
arm  about  her,  drawing  her  close.  "All  this  pomp  and 
circumstance  is  nothing  but  a  hindrance.  It's  you  I  want, 
not  your  wedding  finery.  You  had  better  be  married 
first  and  get  the  finery  afterwards,  as  it  isn't  to  be  in  town. " 

" Oh,  but  I  want  a  big  wedding, "  protested  Dinah.  "It's 
going  to  be  such  fun." 

He  laughed,  holding  her  pointed  chin  between  his  finger 
and  thumb.  "I  believe  that's  all  you  care  about,  you 
little  heartless'  witch.  I  don't  count  at  all.  You'd  have 
enjoyed  this  week  every  bit  as  well  if  I  hadn't  been  here." 


The  Divine  Spark  353 

She  winced  a  little  at  his  words,  for  somehow  they  went 
home.  "There  hasn't  been  much  time  for  anything,  has 
there? "  she  said.  "But — but  I've  enjoyed  the  motor  rides, 
and — and  I  ought  to  thank  you  for  being  so  very  good  to 
me." 

He  kissed  the  quivering  lips,  and  she  slipped  a  shy  arm 
round  his  neck  with  the  feeling  that  she  owed  it  to  him. 
But  she  did  not  return  his  kisses,  for  she  was  afraid  to  feed 
the  flame  that  already  leapt  so  high. 

"You've  nothing  to  thank  me  for,"  he  said  presently, 
when  she  turned  her  face  at  last  abashed  into  his  shoulder. 
"  I  may  be  giving  more  than  you  at  this  stage,  but  it  won't 
be  so  later.  You  shall  have  the  opportunity  of  paying  me 
back  in  full.  How  does  that  appeal  to  you,  Daphne  the 
demure?  Are  you  going  to  be  a  good  little  wife  to  me?" 

"I'll  try,"  she  whispered. 

"And  give  me  all  I  ask — always?" 

"I'll  try,"  she  whispered  again  more  faintly,  conscious 
of  that  terrifying  sense  of  being  so  merged  into  his  over- 
whelming personality  that  the  very  breath  she  drew  seemed 
not  her  own. 

He  lifted  her  into  his  arms,  holding  her  hard  pressed 
against  the  throbbing  of  his  heart.  "You  wisp  of  thistle- 
down!" he  said.  "You  feather!  How  have  you  managed 
to  set  me  on  fire  like  this  ?  I  think  of  nothing  but  you — the 
fairy  wonder  of  you — day  and  night.  If  you  were  to  slip 
out  of  my  reach  now,  I  believe  I  should  follow  and  kill 
you." 

Dinah  lay  across  his  breast  in  palpitating  submission  to 
his  will.  She  could  hear  his  heart  beating  like  a  rising 
tempest,  and  the  force  of  his  passion  overcame  her  like  a 
tornado.'  His  kisses  were  like  the  flames  of  a  fiery  furnace. 
She  felt  stifled,  shattered  by  his  violence.  But  in  the  room 
beyond  she  still  heard  that  steady  voice  reading  aloud,  and 
it  kept  her  from  panic.  She  knew  that  she  had  only  to  raise 

23 


354  Greatheart 

her  own  voice,  and  he  would  be  with  her, — Greatheart  of 
the  golden  armour,  strong  and  fearless  in  her  defence. 

Sir  Eustace  heard  that  quiet  voice  also,  as  one  hears 
the  warning  of  conscience.  He  slackened  his  hold  upon  her, 
with  a  quivering,  half-shamed  laugh. 

"Only  another  fortnight, "  he  said,  "and  I  shall  have  you 
to  myself — all  day  and  all  night  too."  He  looked  at  her 
with  sudden  critical  attention.  "You  had  better  go  to  bed, 
child.  You  look  like  a  little  tired  ghost." 

She  did  not  feel  like  a  ghost,  for  she  was  burning  from 
head  to  foot.  But  as  she  slipped  from  his  arms  the  ground 
seemed  to  be  rocking  all  around  her.  She  stretched  out  her 
hands  blindly,  gasping,  feeling  for  support. 

He  was  up  in  a  moment,  holding  her.  "What  is  it? 
Aren't  you  well?" 

She  sank  against  him  for  she  could  not  stand.  He  held 
her  with  a  tenderness  that  was  new  to  her. 

"  My  darling,  have  I  tired  you  out?  What  a  thoughtless 
brute  I  am!" 

It  was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  heard  a  word  of  self- 
reproach  upon  his  lips;  the  first  time,  though  she  knew  it 
not,  that  actual  love  inspired  him,  entering  as  it  were 
through  that  breach  in  the  wall  of  overbearing  pride  that 
girt  him  round. 

She  leaned  against  him  with  more  confidence  than  she 
had  ever  before  known,  dizzy  still,  and  conscious  of  a 
rush  of  tears  behind  her  closed  lids.  For  that  sudden  com- 
punction of  his  hurt  her  oddly.  She  did  not  know  how  to 
meet  it. 

He  bent  over  her.  "Getting  better,  little  sweetheart? 
Oh,  don't  cry!  What  happened?  Did  I  hurt  you — 
frighten  you  ? ' ' 

He  was  stroking  her  hair  soothingly,  persuasively,  his 
dark  face  so  close  to  hers  that  when  she  opened  her  eyes  they 
looked  up  straight  into  his.  But  she  saw  nought  to  frighten 


The  Divine  Spark  355 

her  there,  and  after  a  moment  she  reached  up  and  kissed 
him  apologetically. 

"I'm  only  silly — only  silly,"  she  murmured  confusedly. 
"Good  night — good  night — Apollo!" 

And  with  the  words  she  stood  up,  summoning  her  strength, 
smiled  upon  him,  and  slipped  free  from  his  encircling  arm. 

He  did  not  seek  to  detain  her.  She  flitted  from  his 
presence  like  a  fluttering  white  moth,  and  he  was  left  alone. 
He  stood  quite  motionless  in  the  semi-darkness,  breathing 
deeply,  his  clenched  hands  pressed  against  his  sides. 

That  moment  had  been  a  revelation  to  him  also.  He  was 
abruptly  conscious  of  the  spirit  so  dominating  the  body  that 
the  fierce,  ungoverned  heart  of  him  drew  back  ashamed  as  a 
beast  will  shrink  from  the  flare  of  a  torch,  and  he  felt 
strangely  conquered,  almost  cowed,  as  though  an  angel  with 
a  flaming  sword  had  suddenly  intervened  between  him  and 
his  desire. 

The  madness  of  his  passion  was  yet  beating  in  his  veins, 
but  this — this  was  another  and  a  stronger  element  before 
which  all  else  became  contemptible.  The  soul  of  the 
man  had  sprung  from  sleep  like  an  awaking  giant.  Half 
in  wonder  and  half  in  awe,  he  watched  the  kindling  of  the 
Divine  Spark  that  outshineth  every  earthly  fire. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE    BROKEN    HEART 

HP  HE  return  home  was  to  Dinah  like  a  sudden  plunge 
A  into  icy  depths  after  a  brief  sojourn  in  the  tropics. 
The  change  of  atmosphere  was  such  that  she  seemed  actu- 
ally to  feel  it  in  her  bones,  and  her  whole  being,  physi- 
cal and  mental  contracted  in  consequence.  Her  mother 
treated  her  with  all  her  customary  harshness,  and  Dinah, 
grown  sensitive  by  reason  of  much  petting,  shrank  almost 
with  horror  whenever  she  came  in  contact  with  the  iron 
will  that  had  subjugated  her  from  babyhood. 

Before  the  first  week  was  over,  she  was  counting  the 
days  to  her  deliverance;  but  of  this  fact  she  hinted  nothing 
in  her  letters  to  her  lover.  These  were  carefully  worded, 
demure  little  epistles  that  gave  him  not  the  smallest  inkling 
of  her  state  of  mind.  She  was  far  too  much  afraid  of  him  to 
betray  that. 

Had  she  been  writing  to  Scott  she  could  scarcely  have 
repressed  it.  In  one  letter  to  Isabel  indeed  something  of 
her  yearning  for  the  vanished  sunshine  leaked  out ;  but  very 
strangely  Isabel  did  not  respond  to  the  pathetic  little 
confidence,  and  Dinah  did  not  venture  to  repeat  it.  Per- 
haps Isabel  was  shocked. 

The  last  week  came,  and  with  it  the  arrival  of  wedding- 
presents  from  her  father  and  friends  that  lifted  Dinah 
out  of  her  depression  and  even  softened  her  mother  into 
occasional  good-humour.  Preparations  for  the  wedding 

356 


The  Broken  Heart  357 

began  in  earnest.  Billy,  released  somewhat  before  the  holi- 
days for  the  occasion,  returned  home,  and  everything  took 
a  more  cheerful  aspect. 

Dinah  could  not  feel  that  her  mother's  attitude  towards 
herself  had  materially  altered.  It  was  sullen  and  threaten- 
ing at  times,  almost  as  if  she  resented  her  daughter's  good 
fortune,  and  she  lived  in  continual  dread  of  an  outbreak 
of  the  cruel  temper  that  had  so  embittered  her  home 
life.  But  Billy's  presence  made  a  difference  even  to  that. 
His  influence  was  entirely  wholesome,  and  he  feared  no 
one. 

"Why  don't  you  stand  up  to  her?"  he  said  to  his  sister 
on  one  occasion  when  he  found  her  weeping  after  an  over- 
whelming brow-beating  over  some  failure  in  the  kitchen. 
"She'd  think  something  of  you  then." 

Dinah  had  no  answer.  She  could  not  convince  him  that 
her  spirit  had  been  broken  for  such  encounters  long  ago. 
Billy  had  never  been  tied  up  to  a  bed-post  and  whipped 
till  limp  with  exhaustion,  but  such  treatment  had  been  her 
portion  more  times  than  she  could  number. 

But  every  hour  brought  her  deliverance  nearer,  and  so 
far  she  had  managed  to  avoid  physical  violence  though  the 
dread  of  it  always  menaced  her. 

"Why  does  she  hate  me  so?"  Over  and  over  again  she 
asked  herself  the  question,  but  she  never  found  any  answer 
thereto;  and  she  was  fain  to  believe  her  father's  easy-going 
verdict:  "There's  no  accounting  for  your  mother's  tan- 
trums; they've  got  to  be  visited  on  somebody." 

She  wondered  what  would  happen  when  she  was  no 
longer  at  hand  to  act  as  scapegoat,  and  yet  it  seemed  to  her 
that  her  mother  longed  to  be  rid  of  her. 

"I'll  get  things  into  good  order  when  you're  out  of 
the  way, "  she  said  to  her  on  the  last  evening  but  one  before 
the  wedding-day,  the  evening  on  which  the  Studleys  were 
to  arrive  at  the  Court.  "You're  just  a  born  muddler, 


358  Greatheart 

and  you'll  never  be  anything  else,  Lady  Studley  or  no 
Lady  Studley.  Get  along  upstairs  and  dress  yourself  for 
your  precious  dinner-party,  or  your  father  will  be  ready 
first!  Oh,  it'll  be  a  good  thing  when  it's  all  over  and  done 
with,  but  if  you  think  you'll  ever  get  treated  as  a  grand  lady 
here,  you're  very  much  mistaken.  Home  broth  is  all  you'll 
ever  get  from  me,  so  you  needn't  expect  anything  different. 
If  you  don't  like  it,  you  can  stop  away." 

Dinah  escaped  from  the  rating  tongue  as  swiftly  as 
she  dared.  She  knew  that  her  mother  had  been  asked  to 
dine  at  the  Court  also — for  the  first  time  in  her  life — and 
had  tersely  refused.  She  wasn't  going  to  be  condescended 
to  by  anybody,  she  had  told  her  husband  in  Dinah's  hear- 
ing, and  he  had  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  advised 
her  to  please  herself. 

Billy  had  not  been  asked,  somewhat  to  his  disgust;  but  he 
looked  forward  to  seeing  Scott  again  in  the  morning  and 
ordered  Dinah  to  ask  him  to  lunch  with  them. 

So  finally  Dinah  and  her  father  set  forth  alone  in  one 
of  the  motors  from  the  Court  to  attend  the  gathering  of 
County  magnates  that  the  de  Vignes  had  summoned  in 
honour  of  Sir  Eustace  Studley  and  his  chosen  bride. 

She  wore  one  of  her  trousseau  gowns  for  the  occasion, 
a  pale  green  gossamer-like  garment  that  made  her  look 
more  nymph-like  than  ever.  Her  mother  had  surveyed  it 
with  narrowed  eyes  and  a  bitter  sneer. 

"Oh  yes,  you'll  pass  for  one  of  the  quality,"  she  had 
said.  "No  one  would  take  you  for  a  child  of  mine  any 
way." 

"That's  no  fault  of  the  child's,  Lydia,"  her  father  had 
rejoined  good-humouredly,  and  in  the  car  he  had  taken  her 
little  cold  hand  into  his  and  asked  her  kindly  enough  if  she 
were  happy. 

She  answered  him  tremulously  in  the  affirmative,  the 
dread  of  her  mother  still  so  strong  upon  her  that  she  could 


The  Broken  Heart  359 

think  of  nothing  but  the  relief  of  escape.  And  then  before 
she  had  time  to  prepare  herself  in  any  way  for  the  sudden 
transition  she  found  herself  back  in  that  tropical,  brilliant 
atmosphere  in  which  thenceforth  she  was  to  move  and 
have  her  being. 

She  could  not  feel  that  she  would  ever  shine  there.  There 
were  so  many  bright  lights,  and  though  her  father  was 
instantly  and  completely  at  home  she  felt  dazzled  and 
strange,  till  ail-unexpectedly  someone  came  to  her  through 
the  great  lamp-lit  hall,  haltingly  yet  with  purpose,  and 
held  her  hand  and  asked  her  how  she  was. 

The  quiet  grasp  steadied  her,  and  in  a  moment  she  was 
radiantly  happy,  all  her  troubles  and  anxieties  swept  from 
her  path.  "Oh,  Scott!"  she  said,  and  her  eyes  beamed 
upon  him  the  greeting  her  lips  somehow  refused  to  utter. 

He  was  laughing  a  little;  his  look  was  quizzical.  "I 
have  been  on  the  look-out  for  you,"  he  told  her.  "It's 
the  best  man's  privilege,  isn't  it  ?  Won't  you  introduce  me 
to  your  father?" 

She  did  so,  and  then  Rose  glided  forward,  exquisite  in 
maize  satin  and  pearls,  and  smilingly  detached  her  from 
the  two  men  and  led  her  upstairs. 

"We  are  to  have  a  little  informal  dance  presently," 
she  said.  "Did  I  tell  you  in  my  note?  No?  Oh,  well, 
no  doubt  it  will  be  a  pleasant  little  surprise  for  you.  How 
very  charming  you  are  looking,  my  dear!  I  didn't  know 
you  had  it  in  you.  Did  you  choose  that  pretty  frock 
yourself?" 

Dinah,  with  something  of  her  mother's  bluntness  of 
speech,  explained  that  the  creation  in  question  had  been 
Isabel's  choice,  and  Rose  smiled  as  one  who  fully  under- 
stood the  situation. 

"  She  has  been  very  good  to  you,  poor  soul,  has  she  not?" 
she  said.  "She  is  not  coming  down  to-night.  The  jour- 
ney has  fatigued  her  terribly.  That  funny,  old-fashioned 


360  Greatheart 

nurse  of  hers  has  asked  very  particularly  that  she  may  not 
be  disturbed,  except  to  see  you  for  a  few  minutes  later. " 

"Is  she  worse?"  asked  Dinah,  startled. 

Whereat  Rose  shook  her  dainty  head.  "Has  she  ever 
been  better?  No,  poor  thing,  I  am  afraid  her  days  are 
numbered,  nor  could  one  in  kindness  wish  it  otherwise. 
Still,  I  mustn't  sadden  you,  dear.  You  have  got  to  look 
your  very  best  to-night,  or  Sir  Eustace  will  be  disappointed. 
There  are  quite  a  lot  of  pretty  girls  coming,  and  you  know 
what  he  is."  Rose  uttered  a  little  self-conscious  laugh. 
"Put  on  a  tinge  of  colour,  dear!"  she  said,  as  Dinah  stood 
before  the  mirror  in  her  room.  "You  look  such  a  little 
brown  thing;  just  a  faint  glow  on  your  cheeks  would  be  such 
an  improvement." 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  Dinah,  and  flushed  suddenly  and 
hotly  at  the  thought  of  what  she  had  once  endured  at  her 
mother's  hands  for  daring  to  pencil  the  shadows  under  her 
eyes.  It  had  been  no  more  than  a  girlish  trick — an  experi- 
ment to  pass  an  idle  moment.  But  it  had  been  treated  as 
an  offence  of  immeasurable  enormity,  and  she  winced  still 
at  the  memory  of  all  that  that  moment's  vanity  had 
entailed. 

Rose  looked  at  her  appraisingly.  "No,  perhaps  you 
don't  need  it  after  all,  not  anyhow  when  you  blush  like  that. 
You  have  quite  a  pretty  blush,  Dinah,  and  you  are  wise  to 
make  the  most  of  it.  Are  you  ready,  dear?  Then  we  will 
go  down." 

She  rustled  forth  with  Dinah  beside  her,  shedding  a  soft 
fragrance  of  some  Indian  scent  as  she  moved  that  somehow 
filled  Dinah  with  indignation,  like  a  resentful  butterfly  in 
search  of  more  wholesome  delights. 

Eustace  was  in  the  hall  when  they  descended.  He  came 
forward  to  meet  his  fiancee,  and  her  heart  throbbed  fast 
and  hard  at  the  sight  of  him.  But  his  manner  was  so 
strictly  casual  and  impersonal  that  her  agitation  speedily 


The  Broken  Heart  361 

passed,  and  by  the  time  they  were  seated  side  by  side  at 
dinner — for  the  last  time  in  their  lives,  as  the  Colonel 
jocosely  remarked — she  could  not  feel  that  she  had  ever 
been  anything  nearer  to  him  than  a  passing  acquaintance. 

She  was  shy  and  very  quiet.  The  hubbub  of  voices,  the 
brilliance  of  it  all,  overwhelmed  her.  If  Scott  had  been  on 
her  other  side,  she  would  have  been  much  happier,  but  he 
was  far  away  making  courteous  conversation  for  the  bene- 
fit of  a  deaf  old  lady  whom  no  one  else  made  the  smallest 
effort  to  entertain. 

Suddenly  Sir  Eustace  disengaged  himself  from  the 
general  talk  and  turned  to  her.  "Dinah!"  he  said. 

Her  heart  leapt  again.  She  glanced  at  him  and  caught 
the  gleam  of  the  hunter  in  those  rapier-bright  eyes  of  his. 

He  leaned  slightly  towards  her,  his  smile  like  a  shining 
cloak,  hiding  his  soul.  "Daphne,"  he  said,  and  his  voice 
came  to  her  subtle,  caressing,  commanding,  through  the 
gay  tumult  all  about  them,  "there  is  going  to  be  dancing 
presently.  Did  you  hear?" 

"Yes,"  she  whispered  with  lowered  eyes. 

"You  will  dance  with  only  one  to-night,"  he  said. 
"That  is  understood,  is  it?" 

"Yes,"  she  whispered  again. 

"Good!"  he  said.  And  then  imperiously,  "Why  don't 
you  drink  some  wine  ? ' ' 

She  made  a  slight,  startled  movement.  "I  never  do, 
I  don't  like  it." 

"You  need  it,"  he  said,  and  made  a  curt  sign  to  one  of 
the  servants. 

Wine  was  poured  into  her  glass,  and  she  drank  sub- 
missively. The  discipline  of  the  past  two  weeks  had  made 
her  wholly  docile.  And  the  wine  warmed  and  cheered  her 
in  a  fashion  that  made  her  think  that  perhaps  he  was  right 
and  she  had  needed  it. 

When  the  dinner  came  to  an  end  she  was  feeling  far  less 


362  Greatheart 

scared  and  strange.  Guests  were  beginning  to  assemble 
for  the  dance,  and  as  they  passed  out  people  whom  she 
knew  by  sight  but  to  whom  she  had  never  spoken  came  up 
and  talked  with  her  as  though  they  were  old  friends. 
Several  men  asked  her  to  dance,  but  she  steadily  refused 
them  all.  Her  turn  would  come  later. 

"I  am  going  up  to  see  Mrs.  Everard,"  was  her  excuse. 
"She  is  expecting  me." 

And  then  Scott  came,  and  she  turned  to  him  with  eager 
welcome.  "Oh,  please,  will  you  take  me  to  see  Isabel?" 

He  gave  her  a  straight,  intent  look,  and  led  her  out 
of  the  throng. 

His  hand  rested  upon  her  arm  as  they  mounted  the 
stairs  and  she  thought  he  moved  with  deliberate  slowness. 
At  the  top  he  spoke. 

"Dinah,  before  you  see  her  I  ought  to  prepare  you  for  a 
change.  She  has  been  losing  ground  lately.  She  is  not — 
what  she  was." 

Dinah  stopped  short.  "Oh,  Scott!"  She  said  in 
breathless  dismay. 

His  hand  pressed  upon  her,  but  it  seemed  to  be  imparting 
strength  rather  than  seeking  it.  "I  think  I  told  you  that 
day  at  the  Dower  House  that  she  was  nearing  the  end 
of  her  journey.  I  don't  want  to  sadden  you.  You  mustn't 
be  sad.  But  you  couldn't  see  her  without  knowing.  It 
won't  be  quite  yet;  but  it  will  be — soon." 

He  spoke  with  the  utmost  quietness;  his  face  never 
varied.  His  eyes  with  their  steady  comradeship  looked 
straight  into  hers,  stilling  her  distress. 

"She  is  so  tired,"  he  said  gently.  "I  don't  think  it 
ought  to  grieve  us  that  her  rest  is  drawing  near  at  last. 
She  has  so  longed  for  it,  poor  girl." 

"Oh,  Scott!"  Dinah  said  again,  but  she  said  it  this  time 
without  consternation.  His  steadfast  strength  had  given 
her  confidence. 


The  Broken  Heart  363 

"Shall  we  go  to  her?"  he  said.  "At  least,  I  think  it 
would  be  better  if  you  went  alone.  She  is  quite  determined 
that  nothing  shall  interfere  with  your  coming  happiness, 
so  you  mustn't  let  her  think  you  shocked  or  grieved.  I 
thought  it  best  to  prepare  you,  that's  all." 

He  led  her  gravely  along  the  passage,  and  presently 
stopped  outside  a  closed  door.  He  knocked  three  times  as 
of  old,  and  Dinah  stood  waiting  as  one  on  the  threshold  of  a 
holy  place. 

The  door  was  opened  by  Biddy,  and  he  pressed  her 
forward.  "Don't  stay  long!"  he  said.  "She  is  very  tired 
to-night,  and  Eustace  will  be  wanting  you." 

She  squeezed  his  hand  in  answer  and  passed  within. 

Biddy's  wrinkled  brown  face  smiled  a  brief  welcome 
under  its  snowy  cap.  She  motioned  her  to  approach. 
"Ye'll  not  stay  long,  Miss  Dinah  dear,"  she  whispered. 
"The  poor  lamb's  very  tired  to-night." 

Dinah  went  forward. 

The  window  was  wide  open,  and  the  rush  of  the  west 
wind  filled  the  room.  Isabel  was  lying  in  bed  with  her  face 
to  the  night,  wide-eyed,  intent,  still  as  death. 

Noiselessly  Dinah  drew  near.  There  was  something 
in  the  atmosphere — a  ghostly,  hovering  presence — that 
awed  her.  In  the  sound  of  that  racing  wind  she  seemed 
to  hear  the  beat  of  mighty  wings. 

She  uttered  no  word,  she  was  almost  afraid  to  speak.  But 
when  she  reached  the  bed,  when  she  bent  and  looked  into 
Isabel's  face,  she  caught  her  breath  in  a  gasping  cry.  For 
she  was  shocked — shocked  unutterably — by  what  she  saw. 
Shrivelled  as  the  face  of  one  who  had  come  through  fiery 
tortures,  ashen-grey,  with  eyes  in  which  the  anguish  of  the 
burnt-out  flame  still  lingered,  eyes  that  were  dead  to  hope, 
eyes  that  were  open  only  to  the  darkness,  such  was  the  face 
upon  which  she  looked. 

Biddy  was  by  her  side  in  a  moment,  speaking  in  a  rapid 


364  Greatheart 

whisper.  "Arrah  thin,  Miss  Dinah  darlint,  don't  ye  be 
scared  at  alH  She'll  speak  to  ye  in  a  minute,  sure.  It's 
only  that  she's  tired  to-night.  She'll  be  more  herself  like  in 
the  morning." 

Dinah  hung  over  the  still  figure.  Biddy's  whispering 
was  as  the  buzzing  of  a  fly.  She  heard  it  with  the  outer 
sense  alone. 

"Isabel!"  she  said;  and  again  with  a  passionate  earnest- 
ness, "Isabel — darling — my  darling — what  has  happened 
to  you?" 

At  the  sound  of  that  pleading  voice  Isabel  moved, 
seeming  as  it  were  to  return  slowly  from  afar. 

"Why,  Dinah  dear!"  she  said. 

Her  dark  eyes  smiled  up  at  her  in  welcome,  but  it  was  a 
smile  that  cut  her  to  the  heart  with  its  aloofness,  its  total 
lack  of  gladness. 

Dinah  stooped  to  kiss  her.  "Are  you  so  tired,  dearest? 
Perhaps  I  had  better  go  away." 

But  Isabel  put  up  a  trembling,  skeleton  hand  and  de- 
tained her.  "No,  dear,  no!  I  am  not  so  tired  as  that.  I 
can't  talk  much;  but  I  can  listen.  Sit  down  and  tell  me 
about  yourself!" 

Dinah  sat  down,  but  she  could  think  of  nothing  but  the 
piteous,  lined  face  upon  the  pillow  and  the  hopeless  suffer- 
ing of  the  eyes  that  looked  forth  from  it. 

She  held  Isabel's  hand  very  tightly,  though  its  terrible 
emaciation  shocked  her  anew,  and  so  for  a  time  they  were 
silent  while  Isabel  seemed  to  drift  back  again  into  the 
limitless  spaces  out  of  which  Dinah's  coming  had  for  a 
moment  called  her. 

It  was  Biddy  who  broke  the  silence  at  last,  laying  a 
gnarled  and  quivering  hand  upon  Dinah  as  she  sat. 

"Ye'd  better  come  again  in  the  morning,  mavourneen," 
she  said.  "She's  too  far  off  to-night  to  heed  ye." 

Dinah  started.     Her  eyes  were  full  of  tears  as  she  bent 


The  Broken  Heart  365 

and  kissed  the  poor,  wasted  fingers  she  held,  realizing  with 
poignant  certainty  as  she  did  it  the  truth  of  the  old  woman's 
statement.  Isabel  was  too  far  off  to  heed. 

Then,  as  she  rose  to  go,  a  strange  thing  happened. 
The  tender  strains  of  a  waltz,  Simple  Aveu,  floated 
softly  in  broken  snatches  in  on  the  west  wind,  and  again — 
as  one  who  hears  a  voice  that  calls — Isabel  came  back. 
She  raised  herself  suddenly.  Her  face  was  alight,  trans- 
figured— the  face  of  a  woman  on  the  threshold  of  Love's 
sanctuary. 

"Oh,  my  dearest!"  she  said,  and  her  voice  thrilled  as 
never  Dinah  had  heard  it  thrill  before.  "How  I  have 
waited  for  this!  How  I  have  waited!" 

She  stretched  out  her  arms  in  one  second  of  rapture 
unutterable;  and  then  almost  in  the  same  moment  they  fell. 
The  youth  went  out  of  her,  she  crumpled  like  a  withered 
flower. 

"Biddy!"  she  said.  "Oh,  Biddy,  tell  them  to  stop! 
I  can't  bear  it!  I  can't  bear  it!" 

Dinah  went  to  the  window  and  closed  it,  shutting  out 
the  haunting  strains.  That  waltz  meant  something  to  her 
also,  something  with  which  for  the  moment  she  felt  she 
could  not  cope. 

Turning,  she  saw  that  Isabel  was  clinging  convulsively 
to  the  old  nurse,  and  she  was  crying,  crying,  crying,  as  one 
who  has  lost  all  hope. 

"But  it's  too  late  to  do  her  any  good,"  mourned  Biddy 
over  the  bowed  head.  "It's  the  tears  of  a  broken  heart." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  WRATH  OF  THE  GODS 

'"PHE  paroxysm  did  not  last  long,  and  in  that  fact  most 
A  poignantly  did  Dinah  realize  the  waning  strength. 

Dumbly  she  stood  and  watched  Biddy  lay  the  inanimate 
figure  back  upon  the  pillows.  Isabel  had  sunk  into  a  state 
of  exhaustion  that  was  almost  torpor. 

"She'll  sleep  now,  dear  lamb,"  said  Biddy,  and  tenderly 
covered  her  over  as  though  she  had  been  a  child. 

She  turned  round  to  Dinah,  looking  at  her  with  shrewd 
darting  eyes.  "  Ye'd  better  be  getting  along  to  your  lover, 
Miss  Dinah,"  she  said.  "He'll  be  wanting  ye  to  dance 
with  him. " 

But  Dinah  stood  her  ground  with  a  little  shiver.  The 
bare  thought  of  dancing  at  that  moment  made  her  feel 
physically  sick.  "Biddy!  Biddy!"  she  whispered,  " what 
has  happened  to  make  her — like  this?" 

"And  ye  may  well  ask!"  said  Biddy  darkly.  "But  it's 
not  for  me  to  tell  ye.  Ye'd  best  run  along,  Miss  Dinah 
dear,  and  be  happy  while  ye  can." 

"But  I'm  not  happy!"  broke  from  Dinah.  "How  can  I 
be?  Biddy,  what  has  happened?  You  must  tell  me  if 
you  can.  She  wasn't  like  this  a  fortnight  ago.  She  has 
never  been — quite  like  this — before." 

Biddy  pursed  her  lips.  "Sure,  we  none  of  us  travel  the 
same  road  twice,  Miss  Dinah,"  she  said. 

But  Dinah  would  not  be  satisfied  with  so  vague  an  axiom. 

366 


The  Wrath  of  the  Gods  367 

"Something  has  happened,"  she  said.  "Come  into  the 
next  room  and  tell  me  all  about  it!  Please,  Biddy!" 

Biddy  glanced  at  the  bed.  "She'll  not  hear  ye  in  here, 
Miss  Dinah, "  she  said.  "And  what  for  should  I  be  telling 
ye  at  all?  Ye'll  be  Sir  Eustace's  bride  in  less  than  forty- 
eight  hours  from  now,  so  it's  maybe  better  ye  shouldn't 
know." 

"I  must  know,"  Dinah  said,  and  with  the  words  a  great 
wave  of  resolution  went  through  her,  uplifting  her,  inspiring 
her.  "I've  got  to  know,"  she  said.  "Whatever  happens, 
I've  got  to  know." 

Biddy  left  the  bedside  and  came  close  to  her.  "If  ye 
insist,  Miss  Dinah — "  she  said. 

"  I  do — I  do  insist. "  Never  in  her  life  before  had  Dinah 
spoken  with  such  authority,  but  a  force  within  was  urging 
her — a  force  irresistible ;  she  spoke  as  one  compelled. 

Biddy  came  closer  still.  "Ye'll  not  tell  Master  Scott — 
nor  any  of  'em — if  I  tell  ye?"  she  whispered. 

"No,  no;  of  course — no!"  Dinah's  voice  came  breath- 
lessly ;  she  had  not  the  power  to  draw  back. 

"Ye  promise,  Miss  Dinah?"  Biddy  could  be  insistent 
too;  her  eyes  burned  like  live  coals. 

"I  promise,  yes."  Dinah  held  out  an  impulsive  hand. 
"You  can  trust  me,"  she  said. 

Biddy's  fingers  closed  claw-like  upon  it.  "Whist  now, 
Miss  Dinah!"  she  said.  "If  Sir  Eustace  was  to  hear  me, 
sure,  he'd  wring  the  neck  on  me  like  as  if  I  was  an  old  fowl. 
But  ye've  asked  me  what's  happened,  mavourneen,  and 
sure,  I'll  tell  ye.  For  it's  the  pretty  young  lady  that  ye  are 
and  a  cruel  shame  that  ye  should  ever  belong  to  the  likes  of 
him.  It's  his  doing,  Miss  Dinah,  every  bit  of  it,  and  it's 
the  truth  I'm  speaking,  as  the  Almighty  Himself  could  tell 
ye  if  He'd  a  mind  to.  The  poor  lamb  was  fading  away 
aisy  like,  but  he  came  along  and  broke  her  heart.  It  was 
them  letters,  Miss  Dinah.  He  took  'em.  And  he  burned 


368  Greatheart 

'em,  my  dear,  he  burned  'em,  and  when  ye  were  gone  she 
missed  'em,  and  then  he  told  her  what  he'd  done,  told  her 
brutal-like  that  it  was  time  she'd  done  with  such  litter. 
He  said-  it  was  all  damn'  nonsense  that  she  was  wasting  her 
life  over  'em  and  over  the  dead.  Oh,  it  was  wicked,  it  was 
cruel.  And  she — poor  innocent — she  locked  herself  up 
when  he'd  gone  and  cried  and  cried  and  cried  till  the  poor 
heart  of  her  was  broke  entirely.  She  said  she'd  lost  touch 
with  her  darling  husband  and  he'd  never  come  back  to  her 
again." 

"Biddy!"  Horror  undisguised  sounded  in  Dinah's 
low  voice.  "He  never  did  such  a  thing  as  that!" 

"He  did  that!"  A  queer  species  of  triumph  was  appar- 
ent in  Biddy's  rejoinder;  malice  twinkled  for  a  second  in 
her  eyes.  "I've  told  ye!  I've  told  ye!"  she  said.  And 
then,  with  sharp  anxiety.  "But  ye'll  not  tell  anyone  as  ye 
know,  Miss  Dinah.  Ye  promised,  now  didn't  ye?  Miss 
Isabel  wouldn't  that  any  should  know — not  even  Master 
Scott.  He  was  away  when  it  happened,  dining  down  at  the 
Vicarage  he  was.  And  Miss  Isabel  she  says  to  me,  'For 
the  life  of  ye,  don't  tell  Master  Scott!  He'd  be  that 
angry,'  she  says,  'and  Sir  Eustace  would  murder  him 
entirely  if  it  came  to  a  quarrel.'  She  was  that  insistent, 
Miss  Dinah,  and  I  knew  there  was  truth  in  what  she  said. 
Master  Scott  has  the  heart  of  a  lion.  He  never  knew  the 
meaning  of  fear  from  his  babyhood.  And  Sir  Eustace  is  a 
monster  of  destruction  when  once  his  blood's  up.  And  he 
minds  what  Master  Scott  says  more  than  anyone.  So  I 
promised,  Miss  Dinah  dear,  the  same  as  you  have.  And 
so  he  doesn't  know  to  this  day.  Sir  Eustace,  ye  see,  has 
been  in  a  touchy  mood  all  along,  ever  since  ye  left.  Like 
gunpowder  he's  been,  and  Master  Scott  has  had  a  difficult 
enough  time  with  him;  and  Miss  Isabel  has  kept  it  from 
him  so  that  he  thinks  it  was  just  your  going  again  that  made 
her  fret  so.  There,  now  ye  know  all,  Miss  Dinah  dear,  and 


The  Wrath  of  the  Gods  369 

don't  ye  for  the  love  of  heaven  tell  a  soul  what  I've  told  ye ! 
Miss  Isabel  would  never  forgive  me  if  she  came  to  know. 
Ah,  the  saints  preserve  us,  what's  that?" 

A  brisk  tap  at  the  door  had  made  her  jump  with  violence. 
She  went  to  parley  with  a  guilty  air. 

In  a  moment  or  two  she  shut  the  door  and  came  back. 
"It's  that  flighty  young  French  hussy,  Miss  Dinah;  her 
they  call  Yvonne.  She  says  Sir  Eustace  is  waiting  for  ye 
downstairs." 

A  great  revulsion  of  feeling  went  through  Dinah.  It 
shook  her  like  an  overwhelming  tempest  and  passed,  leaving 
her  deadly  cold.  She  turned  white  to  the  lips. 

"I  can't  go  to  him,  Biddy,"  she  said.  "I  can't  dance 
to-night.  Yvonne  must  tell  him." 

Biddy  gave  her  a  searching  look.  "Ye  won't  let  him 
find  out,  Miss  Dinah?"  she  urged.  "Won't  he  guess  now 
if  ye  stay  up  here?" 

The  earnest  entreaty  of  the  old  bright  eyes  moved  her. 
She  turned  to  the  door.  "Oh,  very  well.  I'll  go  myself 
and  tell  him." 

"Ye  won't  let  him  suspect,  mavourneen — mavourneen?" 
pleaded  Biddy  desperately. 

"No,  Biddy,  no!  Haven't  I  sworn  it  a  dozen  times 
already?"  Dinah  had  reached  the  door;  she  looked  back 
for  a  moment  and  her  look  was  steadfast  notwithstanding 
the  deathly  pallor  of  her  face.  Then  she  passed  slowly 
forth,  and  heard  old  Biddy  softly  turn  the  key  behind  her, 
making  assurance  doubly  sure. 

Slowly  she  moved  along  the  passage.  It  was  deserted, 
but  the  sound  of  laughing  voices  and  the  tuning  of  violins 
floated  up  from  below.  Again  that  feeling  that  was  akin 
to  physical  sickness  assailed  Dinah.  Down  there  he  was 
waiting  for  her,  waiting  to  be  intoxicated  into  headlong, 
devouring  passion  by  her  dancing.  She  seemed  to  feel  his 
arms  already  holding  her,  straining  her  to  him,  so  that  the 
24 


370  Greatheart 

warmth  of  him  was  as  a  fiery  atmosphere  all  about  her, 
encompassing  her,  possessing  her.  Her  whole  body  burned 
at  the  thought,  and  then  again  was  cold — cold  as  though 
she  had  drunk  a  draught  of  poison.  She  stood  still,  feeling 
too  sick  to  go  on. 

And  then,  while  she  waited,  she  heard  a  step.  Her 
heart  seemed  to  spring  into  her  throat,  throbbing  wildly 
like  a  caged  bird  seeking  freedom.  She  drew  back  against 
the  wall,  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

He  came  along  the  passage,  magnificent,  princely,  con- 
fident, swinging  his  shoulders  with  that  semi-conscious 
swagger  she  knew  so  well.  He  spied  her  where  she  stood, 
and  she  heard  his  brief,  half-mocking  laugh  as  he  strode 
to  her. 

"Ah,  Daphne!    Hiding  as  usual!"  he  said. 

He  took  her  between  his  hands,  and  she  felt  the  mastery 
of  him  in  that  free  hold.  She  stood  as  a  prisoner  in  his 
grasp.  Her  new-found  resolution  was  gone  at  the  first 
contact  with  that  overwhelming  personality  of  his.  She 
hung  her  head  in  quivering  distress. 

He  bent  down,  bringing  his  face  close  to  hers.  He  tried 
to  look  into  the  eyes  that  she  kept  downcast. 

And  suddenly  he  spoke  again,  softly  into  her  ear.  "Why 
so  shy,  little  sweetheart?  Are  you  getting  frightened  now 
the  time  is  so  near?" 

Her  breathing  quickened  at  his  tone.  Possessive  though 
it  was,  it  held  that  tender  note  that  was  harder  to  bear 
than  all  his  fiercest  passion.  She  could  not  speak  in  answer. 
No  words  would  come. 

He  put  his  arm  around  her  and  held  her  close.  "But 
you  mustn't  be  afraid  of  me, "  he  said.  "Don't  you  know 
I  love  you?  Don't  you  know  I  am  going  to  make  you  the 
happiest  little  woman  in  the  world?" 

Dinah  choked  down  some  scalding  tears.  She  longed  to 
escape  from  the  holding  of  his  arm,  and  yet  her  torn  spirit 


The  Wrath  of  the  Gods  371 

felt  the  comfort  of  it.  She  stood  silent,  shaken,  unnerved, 
piteously  conscious  of  her  utter  weakness — the  weakness 
wrought  by  that  iron  discipline  that  had  never  suffered  her 
to  have  any  will  of  her  own. 

He  put  up  a  hand  and  pressed  her  drooping  head  against 
his  shoulder.  "There's  nothing  very  dreadful  in  being 
married,  dear,"  he  told  her.  "I'm  not  such  a  devouring 
monster  as  I  may  seem.  Why,  I  wouldn't  hurt  a  hair  of 
your  head.  They  are  all  precious  to  me." 

She  quivered  at  his  use  of  the  word  that  Biddy  had 
employed  with  such  venom  only  a  few  minutes  before;  but 
still  she  said  nothing.  What  could  she  say?  Against  this 
new  weapon  of  his  she  was  more  helpless  than  ever.  She 
hid  her  face  against  him  and  strove  for  self-control. 

He  kissed  her  temple  and  the  clustering  hair  above  it. 
"There  now!  You  are  not  going  to  be  a  silly  little  scared 
fawn  any  more.  Come  along  and  dance  it  off!" 

His  arm  encircled  her  shoulders;  he  began  to  lead  her 
to  the  stairs. 

And  Dinah  went,  slave-like  in  her  submission,  but  hating 
herself  the  more  for  every  step  she  took. 

They  went  to  the  ballroom,  and  presently  they  danced. 
But  the  old  subtle  charm  was  absent.  Her  feet  moved  to 
the  rhythm  of  the  music,  her  body  swayed  and  pulsed  to 
the  behest  of  his;  but  her  spirit  stood  apart,  bruised  and 
downcast  and  very  much  alone.  Her  gilded  palace  had 
fallen  all  about  her  in  ruins.  The  deliverance  to  which  she 
had  looked  forward  so  eagerly  was  but  another  bondage 
that  would  prove  more  cruel  and  more  enslaving  than  the 
first.  She  longed  with  all  her  quivering  heart  to  run  away 
and  hide. 

He  was  very  kind  to  her,  more  considerate  than  she  had 
ever  known  him.  Perhaps  he  missed  the  fairy  abandon- 
ment which  had  so  delighted  him  in  her  dancing  of  old; 
but  he  found  no  fault;  and  when  the  dance  was  over  he 


372  Greatheart 

did  not  lead  her  away  to  some  private  corner  as  she  had 
dreaded,  but  took  her  instead  to  her  father  and  stood  with 
him  for  some  time  in  talk. 

She  saw  Scott  in  the  distance,  but  he  did  not  approach 
her  while  Eustace  was  with  them,  and  when  her  fiance 
turned  away  at  length  he  had  disappeared. 

They  were  left  comparatively  alone,  and  Dinah  slipped 
an  urgent  hand  into  her  father's.  "I  want  to  go  home, 
Daddy.  I'm  so  tired." 

He  looked  at  her  in  surprise,  but  she  managed  to  muster 
a  smile  in  reply,  and  he  was  not  observant  enough  to  note 
the  distress  that  lay  behind  it. 

"Had  enough  of  it,  eh?"  he  questioned.  "Well,  I  think 
you're  wise.  You'll  be  busy  to-morrow.  By  all  means, 
let's  go!" 

It  was  not  till  the  very  last  moment  that  she  saw  Scott 
again.  He  came  forward  just  as  she  was  passing  through 
the  hall  to  the  front  door. 

He  took  the  hand  she  held  out  to  him,  looking  at  her  with 
those  straight,  steady  eyes  of  his  that  there  was  no  evading, 
but  he  made  no  comment  of  any  sort. 

"Mr.  Grey  is  coming  by  a  morning  train  to-morrow, "  he 
said.  "May  I  bring  him  to  call  upon  you  in  the  afternoon? 
I  believe  he  wants  to  run  through  the  wedding-service  with 
you  beforehand. " 

He  smiled  as  he  said  it,  but  Dinah  could  not  smile  in 
answer.  There  was  something  ominous  to  her  in  that  last 
sentence,  something  that  made  her  think  of  the  clanking  of 
chains.  She  was  relieved  to  hear  her  father  answer  for  her. 

"Come  by  all  means!  Nothing  like  a  dress  rehearsal 
to  make  things  go  smoothly.  I'll  tell  my  wife  to  expect 
you." 

Scott's  hand  relinquished  hers,  and  she  felt  suddenly 
cold.  She  murmured  a  barely  audible  "Good  night!"  and 
turned  away. 


The  Wrath  of  the  Gods  373 

From  the  portico  she  glanced  back  and  saw  Sir  Eustace 
leading  Rose  de  Vigne  to  the  ballroom.  The  light  shone 
full  upon  them.  They  made  a  splendid  couple.  And  a 
sudden  bizarre  thought  smote  her.  This  was  what  the  gods 
had  willed.  This  had  been  the  weaving  of  destiny;  and  she 
— she — had  dared  to  intervene,  frustrating,  tearing  the 
gilded,  smooth-wrought  threads  apart. 

Ah  well !  It  was  done  now.  It  was  too  late  to  draw  back. 
But  the  wrath  of  the  gods  remained  to  be  faced.  Already  it 
was  upon  her,  and  there  was  no  escape. 

As  one  who  hears  a  voice  speaking  from  a  far  distance, 
she  heard  herself  telling  her  father  that  all  was  well  with  her 
and  she  had  spent  an  enjoyable  evening. 

Then  she  lay  back  in  the  car  with  clenched  hands,  and 
listened  trembling  to  the  thundering  wheels  of  Destiny. 


CHAPTER  XV 


NO  girl  ever  worked  harder  in  preparation  for  her  own 
wedding  than  did  Dinah  on  the  following  day. 
That  she  had  scarcely  slept  all  night  was  a  fact  that  no  one 
suspected.  Work-a-day  Dinah,  as  her  father  was  wont  to 
call  her,  was  not  an  object  of  great  solicitude  to  any  in 
her  home-circle,  and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  was 
thankful  that  such  was  the  case. 

Her  mother's  hard  gipsy  eyes  watched  only  for  delin- 
quencies, and  her  rating  tongue  was  actually  a  relief  to 
Dinah  after  the  dread  solitude  of  those  long  hours.  She 
was  like  a  prisoner  awaiting  execution,  and  even  that  harsh 
companionship  was  in  a  measure  helpful  to  her. 

The  time  passed  with  appalling  swiftness.  When  the 
luncheon  hour  arrived  she  was  horrified  to  find  that  the 
morning  had  gone.  She  could  eat  nothing,  a  fact  which 
raised  a  jeering  laugh  from  her  mother  and  a  chaffing  remon- 
strance from  her  father.  Billy  had  gone  riding  on  Rupert 
and  had  not  returned.  Billy  always  came  and  went  exactly 
as  he  pleased. 

One  or  two  more  presents  from  friends  of  her  father's 
had  arrived  by  the  midday  post.  Mrs.  Bathurst  unpacked 
them,  admiring  them  with  more  than  a  touch  of  envy, 
assuring  Dinah  that  she  was  a  very  lucky  girl,  luckier  than 
she  deserved  to  be;  but  Dinah,  though  she  acquiesced,  had 
no  heart  for  presents.  She  could  only  see — as  she  had  seen 

374 


The  Sapphire  for  Friendship          375 

all  through  the  night — the  piteous,  marred  face  of  a  woman 
who  had  passed  through  such  an  intensity  of  suffering  as  she 
could  only  dimly  guess  at  into  the  dark  of  utter  despair. 
She  could  only  hear,  whichever  way  she  turned,  the  clanking 
of  the  chains  that  in  so  brief  a  time  were  to  be  welded 
irrevocably  about  herself. 

Luncheon  over,  she  went  up  to  dress  and  to  finish  the 
packing  of  the  new  trunks  which  were  to  accompany  her 
upon  her  honeymoon.  She  had  not  even  yet  begun  to 
realize  these  strange  belongings  of  hers.  She  could  no 
longer  visualize  herself  as  a  bride.  She  looked  upon  all 
the  finery  as  destined  for  another,  possibly  Rose  de  Vigne, 
but  emphatically  not  for  herself. 

The  wedding-dress  and  veil  lying  in  their  box,  swathed  in 
tissue-paper,  had  a  gossamer  unreality  about  them  that 
even  the  sense  of  touch  could  not  dispel.  No — no!  The 
bride  of  to-morrow  was  surely,  surely,  not  herself! 

They  were  to  spend  the  first  part  of  their  honeymoon  at 
a  little  place  on  the  Cornish  coast,  very  far  from  every- 
where, as  Sir  Eustace  said.  She  thought  of  that  little  place 
with  a  vague  wonder.  It  was  the  stepping-stone  between 
the  life  she  now  knew  and  that  new  unknown  life  that 
awaited  her.  She  would  go  there  just  Dinah — work-a-day 
Dinah — her  own  ordinary  self.  She  would  leave  a  fortnight 
after,  possibly  less,  a  totally  different  being — a  married 
woman,  Lady  Studley,  part  and  parcel  of  Sir  Eustace's 
train,  his  most  intimate  belonging,  most  exclusively  his  own. 

She  trembled  afresh  as  this  thought  came  home  to  her. 
Despite  his  assurances,  marriage  seemed  to  her  a  terrible 
thing.  It  was  like  parting,  not  only  with  the  old  life,  but 
with  herself. 

She  dressed  mechanically,  scarcely  thinking  of  her  ap- 
pearance, roused  only  at  length  from  her  pre-occupation 
by  the  tread  of  hoofs  under  her  window.  She  leaned  forth 
quickly  and  discerned  Scott  on  horseback, — a  trim,  upright 


376  Greatheart 

figure,  very  confident  in  the  saddle — and  with  him  Billy 
still  mounted  on  Rupert  and  evidently  in  the  highest 
spirits. 

The  latter  spied  her  at  once  and  accosted  her  in 
his  cracked,  cheerful  voice.  "Hi,  Dinah!  Come  down! 
We're  going  to  tea  at  the  Court.  Scott  will  walk  with  you, 
and  I'm  going  to  ride  his  gee. " 

He  rolled  off  Rupert  with  the  words.  Scott  looked  up  at 
her,  faintly  smiling  as  he  lifted  his  hat.  "I  hope  that  plan 
will  suit  you,"  he  said.  "The  fact  is  the  padre  has  been 
detained  and  can't  get  here  before  tea-time.  So  we  thought 
— Eustace  thought — you  wouldn't  mind  coming  up  to  the 
Court  to  tea  instead  of  waiting  to  see  him  here. " 

It  crossed  her  mind  to  wonder  why  Eustace  had  not  come 
himself  to  fetch  her,  but  she  was  conscious  of  a  deep,  un- 
reasoning thankfulness  that  he  had  not.  Then,  before  she 
could  reply,  she  heard  her  father's  voice  in  the  porch, 
inviting  Scott  to  enter. 

Scott  accepted  the  invitation,  and  Dinah  turned  back 
into  the  room  to  prepare  for  the  walk. 

Her  hands  were  trembling  so  much  that  they  could 
scarcely  serve  her.  She  was  in  a  state  of  violent  and 
uncontrollable  agitation,  longing  one  moment  to  be  gone, 
and  the  next  desiring  desperately  to  remain  where  she  was. 
The  thought  of  facing  the  crowd  at  the  Court  filled  her 
with  a  positive  tumult  of  apprehension,  but  breathlessly  she 
kept  telling  herself  that  Scott  would  be  there — Scott  would 
be  there.  His  sheltering  presence  would  be  her  protection. 

And  then,  still  trembling,  still  unnerved,  she  descended 
to  meet  him. 

He  was  with  her  father  in  the  drawing-room.  The  place 
was  littered  with  wedding-presents. 

As  she  entered,  he  came  towards  her,  and  in  a  moment 
his  quiet  hand  closed  upon  hers.  Her  father  went  out  in 
search  of  her  mother  and  they  were  alone. 


The  Sapphire  for  Friendship          377 

"What  a  collection  of  beautiful  things  you  have  here!" 
he  said. 

She  looked  at  him,  met  his  steady  eyes,  and  suddenly 
some  force  of  speech  broke  loose  within  her;  she  uttered 
words  wild  and  passionate,  such  as  she  had  never  till  that 
moment  dreamed  of  uttering. 

"Oh,  don't  talk  of  them!  Don't  think  of  them!  They 
suffocate  me!" 

She  saw  his  face  change,  but  she  could  not  have  analysed 
the  expression  it  took.  He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and 
in  that  moment  his  fingers  tightened  hard  and  close  upon 
her  hand. 

Then,  "I  have  brought  you  a  small  offering  on  my  own 
account,"  he  said  in  his  courteous,  rather  tired  voice. 
"May  I  present  it?  Or  would  you  rather  I  waited  a 
little?" 

She  felt  the  tears  welling  up,  swiftly,  swiftly,  and  clasped 
her  throat  to  stay  them.  "Of  course  I  would  like  it," 
she  murmured  almost  inarticulately.  "That — that  is 
different." 

He  took  a  small,  white  packet  from  his  pocket  and  put  it 
into  the  hand  he  had  been  holding,  without  a  word. 

Dumbly,  with  quivering  fingers,  she  opened  it.  There 
was  something  of  tragedy  in  the  silence,  something  of 
despair. 

The  paper  fluttered  to  the  ground,  leaving  a  leather  case 
in  her  grasp.  She  glanced  up  at  him. 

"Won't  you  look  inside?"  he  said  gently. 

She  did  so,  in  her  eyes  those  burning  tears  she  could  not 
check.  And  there,  gleaming  on  its  bed  of  white  velvet,  she 
saw  a  wonderful  jewel — a  great  star-shaped  sapphire,  deep 
as  the  heart  of  a  fathomless  pool,  edged  with  diamonds 
that  flashed  like  the  sun  upon  the  ripples  of  its  shores.  She 
gazed  and  gazed  in  silence.  It  was  the  loveliest  thing  she 
had  ever  seen. 


378  Greatheart 

Scott  was  watching  her,  his  eyes  very  still,  unchangeably 
steadfast.  "The  sapphire  for  friendship,"  he  said. 

She  started  as  one  awaking  from  a  dream.  In  the  pas- 
sage outside  the  half-open  door  she  heard  the  sound  of  her 
mother's  voice  approaching.  With  a  swift  movement  she 
closed  the  case  and  hid  it  in  her  dress. 

"I  can't  show  it  to  anyone  yet,  "  she  said  hurriedly. 

Her  tone  appealed.  He  answered  her  immediately. 
"  It  is  for  you  and  no  one  else." 

His  voice  held  nought  but  kindness,  comprehension, 
comfort. 

He  turned  from  her  the  next  moment  to  meet  her  mother, 
and  she  heard  him  speaking  in  his  easy,  leisured  tones, 
gaining  time  for  her,  making  her  path  easy,  as  had  ever 
been  his  custom. 

And  again  unbidden,  unavoidable,  there  came  to  her  the 
vision  of  Greatheart — Greatheart  the  valiant — her  knight 
of  the  golden  armour,  going  before  her,  strong  to  defend, — 
invincible,  unafraid,  sure  by  means  of  that  sureness  which 
is  given  only  to  those  who  draw  upon  a  Higher  Power  than 
their  own,  given  only  to  the  serving-men  of  God. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   OPEN   DOOR 

BILLY  had  already  departed  upon  Scott's  mount  ere 
he  and  Dinah  set  forth  to  walk  to  the  Court.  It  was 
threatening  to  rain,  and  the  ground  beneath  their  feet  was 
sodden  and  heavy. 

"It  is  rather  a  shame  to  ask  you  to  walk,"  said  Scott, 
as  they  turned  up  the  muddy  road.  "They  would  have 
sent  a  car  for  you  if  I  had  thought. " 

"  I  would  much  rather  walk,  "  said  Dinah.  Her  face  was 
very  pale.  She  looked  years  older  than  she  had  looked  at 
Willowmount.  After  a  moment  she  added,  "We  shall 
pass  the  church.  '  Perhaps  you  would  like  to  see  it.  They 
were  going  to  decorate  it  this  morning." 

"I  should,"  said  Scott. 

He  limped  beside  her,  and  she  curbed  her  pace  to  his 
though  the  fever  of  unrest  that  surged  within  her  urged  her 
forward.  They  went  up  the  lane  that  led  to  the  church  in 
almost  unbroken  silence. 

At  the  churchyard  gate  she  paused.  "I  hope  there  is 
-no  one  here,  "  she  said  uneasily. 

"We  need  not  go  in  unless  you  wish, "  he  answered. 

But  when  they  reached  the  porch,  they  found  that  the 
church  was  empty,  and  so  they  entered. 

A  heavy  scent  of  lilies  pervaded  the  place.  There  was  a 
wonderful  white  arch  of  flowers  at  the  top  of  the  aisle,  and 
the  chancel  was  decked  with  them.  The  space  above  the 

379 


380  Greatheart 

altar  was  a  mass  of  white,  perfumed  splendour.  They  had 
been  sent  down  from  the  Court  that  morning. 

Slowly  Scott  passed  up  the  nave  with  the  bride-elect  by 
his  side;  straight  to  the  chancel-steps,  and  there  he  paused. 
His  pale  face  with  its  light  eyes  was  absolutely  composed 
and  calm.  He  looked  straight  up  to  the  dim  richness  of 
the  stained-glass  window  above  him  as  though  he  saw 
beyond  the  flowers. 

For  many  seconds  Dinah  stood  beside  him,  awed,  waiting 
as  it  were  for  the  coming  of  a  revelation.  Whatever  it 
might  be  she  knew  already  that  she  would  not  leave  that 
holy  place  in  the  state  of  hopeless  turmoil  in  which  she 
had  entered.  Something  was  coming  to  her,  some  new 
thing,  that  might  serve  as  an  anchor  in  her  distress  even 
though  it  might  not  bring  her  ultimate  deliverance. 

Or  stay!  Was  it  a  new  thing?  Was  it  not  rather  the 
unveiling  of  something  which  had  always  been?  Her 
heart  quickened  and  became  audible  in  the  stillness.  She 
clasped  her  hands  tightly  together.  And  in  that  moment 
Scott  turned  his  head  and  looked  at  her. 

No  word  did  he  speak;  only  that  straight,  calm  look — as 
of  a  man  clean  of  soul  and  fearless  of  evil.  It  told  her 
nothing,  that  look,  it  opened  to  her  no  secret  chamber; 
neither  did  it  probe  her  own  quivering  heart.  It  was  the 
kindly,  reassuring  look  of  a  friend  ready  to  stand  by,  ready 
to  lend  a  sure  hand  if  such  were  needed. 

But  by  that  look  Dinah's  revelation  burst  upon  her.  In 
that  moment  she  saw  her  own  soul  as  never  before  had 
she  seen  it;  and  all  the  little  things,  the  shallow  things, 
the  earthly  things,  faded  quite  away.  With  a  deep, 
deep  breath  she  opened  her  eyes  upon  the  Vision  of 
Love.  .  .  . 

"Shall  we  go?"  murmured  Scott. 

She  looked  at  him  vaguely  for  a  second,  feeling  stunned 
and  blinded  by  the  radiance  of  that  revelation.  A  black 


The  Open  Door  381 

veil  seemed  to  be  descending  upon  her;  she  put  out  a 
groping  hand. 

He  took  it,  and  his  hold  was  sustaining.  He  led  her  in 
silence  down  the  long,  shadowy  building  to  the  porch. 

He  would  have  led  her  further,  but  a  sudden,  heavy 
shower  was  falling,  and  he  had  to  pause.  She  sank  down 
trembling  upon  the  stone  seat. 

"Scott!     Oh,  Scott!"  she  said.     "Help  me!" 

He  made  a  slight,  involuntary  movement  that  passed 
unexplained.  "I  am  here  to  help  you,  my  dear,"  he  said, 
his  voice  very  quiet  and  even.  "You  mustn't  be  scared, 
you  know.  You'll  get  through  it  all  right." 

She  wrung  her  hands  together  in  her  extremity.  "It 
isn't  that,"  she  told  him.  "I — I  suppose  I've  got  to  go 
through  it — as  you  say  so.  But — but — you'll  think  me 
very  wicked,  yet  I  must  tell  you — I've  made — a  dreadful 
mistake.  I'm  marrying  for  money,  for  position,  to  get 
away  from  home, — anything  but  love.  I  don't  love  him. 
I  know  now  that  I  never  shall — never  can!  And  I'd  give 
anything — anything — anything  to  escape!" 

It  was  spoken.  All  the  long-pent  misgivings  that  had 
culminated  in  awful  certainty  the  night  before  had  so 
wrought  in  her  that  now — now  that  the  revelation  had  come 
— she  could  no  longer  keep  silence.  But  of  that  revelation 
she  would  sooner  have  died  than  speak. 

Scott  heard  that  wrung  confession,  standing  before  her 
with  a  stillness  that  gave  him  a  look  of  sternness.  He 
spoke  as  she  ended,  possibly  because  he  realized  that  she 
would  not  be  able  to  endure  the  briefest  silence  at  that 
moment,  possibly  because  he  dreamed  of  filling  up  the  gap 
ere  it  widened  to  an  irreparable  breach. 

"But,  Dinah,"  he  said,  "don't  you  know  he  loves  you?" 

She  flung  her  hands  wide  in  a  gesture  of  the  most  utter 
despair.  "That's  just  the  very  worst  part  of  it,"  she  said. 
"That's  just  why  there  is  no  getting  away." 


382  Greatheart 

"You  don't  want  his  love?"  Scott  questioned,  his  voice 
very  low. 

She  shook  her  head  in  instant  negation.  "Oh  no,  no, 
no!" 

He  bent  slightly  towards  her,  looking  into  her  face  of 
quivering  agitation.  "Dinah,  are  you  sure  it  isn't  all  this 
pomp  and  circumstance  that  is  frightening  you  ?  Are  you 
sure  you  have  no  love  at  all  in  your  heart  for  him?" 

She  did  not  shrink  from  his  look.  Though  she  thought 
his  eyes  were  stern,  she  met  them  with  the  courage  of 
desperation.  "I  am  quite — quite — sure,"  she  told  him 
brokenly.  "I  never  loved  him.  I  was  dazzled,  that's  all. 
But  now — but  now — the  glamour  is  all  gone.  I  would 
give  anything — oh,  anything  in  the  world — if  only  he  would 
marry  Rose  de  Vigne  instead!" 

Her  voice  failed  and  with  it  her  strength.  She  covered 
her  face  and  wept  hopelessly,  tragically. 

Scott  stood  motionless  by  her  side.  His  brows  were 
drawn  as  the  brows  of  a  man  in  pain,  but  the  eyes  below 
them  had  the  brightness  of  unwavering  resolution.  There 
was  something  rocklike  about  his  pose. 

The  pattering  of  the  rain  mingled  with  the  sound  of 
Dinah's  anguished  sobbing;  there  seemed  to  be  no  other 
sound  in  all  the  world. 

He  moved  at  last,  and  into  his  eyes  there  came  a  very 
human  look,  dispelling  all  hardness.  He  bent  to  her  again, 
his  hand  upon  her  shoulder.  "My  child,"  he  said  gently, 
"don't  be  so  distressed!  It  isn't  too  late — even  now." 

He  felt  her  respond  to  his  touch,  but  she  could  not  lift 
her  head.  "I  can  never  face  him,"  she  sobbed  hopelessly. 
"I  shall  never,  never  dare!" 

"You  must  face  him, "  Scott  said  quietly  but  very  firmly. 
"You  owe  it  to  him.  Do  you  consider  that  you  would  be 
acting  fairly  by  him  if  you  married  him  solely  for  the  reasons 
you  have  just  given  to  me?" 


The  Open  Door  383 

She  shrank  at  his  words,  trembling  all  over  like  a  fright- 
ened child.  But  his  hand  was  still  upon  her,  restraining 
panic. 

"He  will  be  so  angry — so  furious, "  she  faltered. 

"I  will  help  you,"  Scott  said  steadily. 

"Ah!"  she  caught  at  the  promise  with  an  eagerness  that 
was  piteous.  "You  won't  leave  me?  You  won't  let  me  be 
alone  with  him?  He  can  make  me  do  anything — anything 
— when  I  am  alone  with  him.  Oh,  he  is  terrible  enough — 
even  when  he  is  not  angry.  He  told  me  once  that — that — 
if  I  were  to  slip  out  of  his  reach,  he  would  follow — and  kill 
me!" 

The  brightness  returned  to  Scott's  eyes;  they  shone  with 
an  almost  steely  gleam.  "You  needn't  be  afraid  of  that," 
he  said  quietly.  "Now  tell  me,  Dinah,  for  I  want  to  know; 
how  long  have  you  known  that  you  didn't  want  to  marry 
him?" 

But  Dinah  shrank  at  the  question,  as  though  he  had 
probed  a  wound.  "  Oh,  I  can't  tell  you  that !  As  long  as  I 
have  realized  that  I  was  bound  to  him — I  have  been  afraid ! 
And  now — now  that  it  has  come  so  close —  She  broke  off. 
"Oh,  but  I  can't  draw  back  now,"  she  said  hopelessly. 
"Think — only  think — what  it  will  mean!" 

Scott  was  silent  for  a  few  seconds,  then:  "If  it  would  be 
easier  for  you  to  go  on,"  he  said  slowly,  "perhaps — in  the 
end — it  may  be  better  for  you;  because  he  honestly  loves 
you,  and  I  think  his  love  may  make  a  difference — in  the  end. 
Possibly  you  are  nearer  to  loving  him  even  now  than  you 
imagine.  If  it  is  the  dread  of  hurting  him — not  angering 
him — that  holds  you  back,  then  I  do  not  think  you  would 
be  doing  wrong  to  marry  him.  If  you  are  just  scared  by 
the  thought  of  to-morrow  and  possibly  the  day  after " 

"Oh,  but  it  isn't  that!  It  isn't  that!"  Dinah  cried  the 
words  out  passionately  like  a  prisoner  who  sees  the  door  of 
his  cell  closing  finally  upon  him.  "It's  because  I'm  not  his! 


384  Greatheart 

I  don't  belong  to  him!     I  don't  want  to  belong  to  him! 
The  very  thought  makes  me  feel — almost — sick ! ' ' 

"Then  there  is  someone  else,"  Scott  said,  with  grave 
conviction. 

"Ah!"  It  was  not  so  much  a  word  as  the  sharp  intake 
of  breath  that  follows  the  last  and  keenest  thrust  of  the 
probe  that  has  reached  the  object  of  its  search.  Dinah 
suddenly  became  rigid  and  yet  vibrant  as  stretched  wire. 
Her  silence  was  the  silence  of  the  victim  who  dreads  so 
unspeakably  the  suffering  to  come  as  to  be  scarcely  aware 
of  present  anguish. 

But  Scott  was  merciful.  He  withdrew  the  probe  and 
very  pitifully  he  closed  the  wound  that  he  had  opened. 
"  No,  no!"  he  said.  "That  has  nothing  to  do  with  me — or 
with  Eustace  either.  But  it  makes  your  case  absolutely 
plain.  Come  with  me  now — before  you  feel  any  worse  about 
it — and  ask  him  to  give  you  your  release!" 

"Oh,  Scott!"  She  looked  up  at  him  at  last,  and  though 
there  was  a  measure  of  relief  in  her  eyes,  her  face  was 
deathly.  ' '  Oh,  Scott,— dare  I  do  that  ? ' ' 

"I  shall  be  there, "  he  said. 

"Yes, — yes,  you  will  be  there!  You  won't  leave  me? 
Promise!"  She  clasped  his  arm  in  entreaty. 

He  looked  into  her  eyes,  and  there  was  a  great  kindness 
in  his  own — the  kindness  of  Greatheart  arming  himself  to 
defend  his  pilgrims.  "Yes,  I  promise  that,"  he  said,  add- 
ing, "unless  I  leave  you  at  your  own  desire." 

"You  will  never  do  that,"  Dinah  said  and  smiled  with 
quivering  lips.  "You  are  good  to  me.  Oh,  you  are  good! 
But— but " 

"But  what?"  he  questioned  gently. 

"He  may  refuse  to  set  me  free,"  she  said  desperately. 
"What  then?" 

"My  dear,  no  one  is  married  by  force  now-a-days,"  he 
said. 


The  Open  Door  385 

Her  face  changed  as  a  sudden  memory  swept  across  her. 
"And  my  mother!  My  mother!"  she  said. 

"  Don't  you  think  we  had  better  deal  with  one  difficulty 
at  a  time?"  suggested  Scott. 

His  hand  sought  hers,  he  drew  her  to  her  feet. 

And,  as  one  having  no  choice,  she  submitted  and  went 
with  him. 

It  was  still  raining,  but  the  heaviest  of  the  shower  was 
over.  A  gleam  of  sunshine  lit  the  distance  as  they  went, 
and  a  faint,  faint  ray  of  hope  dawned  in  Dinah's  heart  at 
the  sight.  Though  her  deliverance  was  yet  to  be  achieved, 
though  she  dreaded  unspeakably  that  which  lay  before  her, 
at  least  the  door  was  open,  could  she  but  reach  it  to  pass 
through.  She  breathed  a  purer  air  already.  And  beside 
her  stood  Greatheart  the  valiant,  covering  her  with  his 
shield  of  gold. 

25 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  LION  IN  THE   PATH 

A  LARGE  and  merry  party  of  guests  were  congregated 
in  the  great  hall  at  Perrythorpe  Court,  having  tea. 
One  of  them — a  young  soldier-cousin  of  the  Studleys — 
was  singing  a  sentimental  ditty  at  a  piano  to  which  no  one 
was  listening;  and  the  hubbub  was  considerable. 

Dinah,  admitted  into  the  outer  hall  that  was  curtained 
off  from  the  gay  crowd,  shrank  nearer  to  Scott  as  the 
cheery  tumult  reached  her. 

"Need  we — must  we — go  in  that  way?"  she  whispered. 

There  was  a  door  on  the  right  of  the  porch.  Scott  turned 
towards  it. 

" I  suppose  we  can  go  in  there?"  he  said  to  the  man  who 
had  admitted  them. 

"The  gun-room,  sir?  Yes,  if  you  wish,  sir.  Shall  I 
bring  tea?" 

"No,"  Scott  said  quietly.  "Find  Sir  Eustace  Studley  if 
you  can,  and  ask  him  to  join  us  there!  Come  along, 
Dinah!" 

His  hand  touched  her  arm.  She  entered  the  little  room 
as  one  seeking  refuge.  It  led  into  a  conservatory,  and 
thence  to  the  garden.  The  apartment  itself  was  given  up 
entirely  to  weapons  or  instruments  of  sport.  Guns,  fishing- 
rods,  hunting-stocks,  golf-clubs,  tennis-rackets,  were  stored 
in  various  racks  and  stands.  A  smell  of  stale  cigar-smoke 
pervaded  it.  Colonel  de  Vigne  was  wont  to  retire  hither 

386 


The  Lion  in  the  Path  387 

at  night  in  preference  to  the  less  cosy  and  intimate  smoking- 
room. 

But  there  was  no  one  here  now,  and  Scott  laid  hat  and 
riding-whip  upon  the  table  and  drew  forward  a  chair  for  his 
companion. 

She  looked  at  him  and  tried  to  thank  him,  but  she  was 
voiceless.  Her  pale  lips  moved  without  sound. 

Scott's  eyes  were  very  kindly.  "Don't  be  so  frightened, 
child!"  he  said;  and  then,  a  sudden  thought  striking  him, 
"Look  here!  You  go  and  wait  in  the  conservatory  and  let 
me  speak  to  him  first!  Yes,  that  will  be  the  best  way. 
Come!" 

His  hand  touched  her  again.  She  turned  as  one  com- 
pelled. But  as  he  opened  the  glass  door,  she  found  her 
voice. 

"Oh,  I  ought  not  to — to  let  you  face  him  alone.  I  must 
be  brave.  I  must." 

"Yes,  you  must,"  Scott  answered.  "But  I  will  see  him 
alone  first.  It  will  make  it  easier  for  everyone. " 

Yet  for  a  moment  she  halted  still.  "You  really  mean 
it?  You  wish  it?" 

" Yes,  I  wish  it, "  he  said.     "Wait  in  here  till  I  call  you ! " 

She  took  him  at  his  word.  There  was  no  other  course. 
He  closed  the  door  upon  her  and  turned  back  alone. 

He  sat  down  in  the  chair  that  he  had  placed  for  her  and 
became  motionless  as  a  figure  carved  in  bronze.  His  pale 
face  and  trim,  colourless  beard  were  in  shadow,  his  eyes 
were  lowered.  There  was  scarcely  an  inanimate  object  in 
the  room  as  insignificant  and  unimposing  as  he,  and  yet  in 
his  stillness,  in  his  utter  unobtrusiveness,  there  lay  a 
strength  such  as  the  strongest  knight  who  ever  rode  in 
armour  might  have  envied. 

There  came  a  careless  step  without,  a  hand  upon  the 
door.  It  opened,  and  Sir  Eustace,  handsome,  self-assured, 
slightly  haughty,  strode  into  the  room. 


388  Greatheart 

"Hullo,  Stumpy!  What  do  you  want?  I  can't  stop.  I 
am  booked  to  play  billiards  with  Miss  de  Vigne.  A  test 
match  to  demonstrate  the  steadiness  of  my  nerves ! ' ' 

Scott  stood  up.  "I  have  a  bigger  test  for  you  than  that, 
old  chap,"  he  said.  "Shut  the  door  if  you  don't  mind!" 

Sir  Eustace  sent  him  a  swift,  edged  glance.  "I  can't 
stop,"  he  said  again.  "What  is  it?  Some  mare's  nest 
about  Isabel?" 

"No,  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  Isabel.  Shut  the 
door,  man!  I  must  be  alone  with  you  for  a  few  minutes." 
Scott  spoke  with  unwonted  vehemence.  The  careless  notes 
of  the  piano,  the  merry  tumult  of  chattering  voices,  seemed 
to  affect  him  oddly,  almost  to  exasperate  him. 

Sir  Eustace  turned  and  swung  the  door  shut;  then  with 
less  than  his  customary  arrogance  he  came  to  Scott. 
"What's  the  matter?"  he  said.  "Out  with  it!  Don't 
break  the  news  if  you  can  help  it!" 

His  eyes  belied  the  banter  of  his  words.  They  shone  as 
the  eyes  of  a  fighter  meeting  odds.  There  was  something 
leonine  about  him  at  the  moment,  something  of  the  primi- 
tive animal  roused  from  its  lair  and  scenting  danger. 

He  looked  into  Scott's  pale  face  with  the  dawning  of  a 
threatening  expression  upon  his  own. 

And  Scott  met  the  threat  full  and  square  and  unflinching. 
"I've  come  to  tell  you, "  he  said,  "about  the  hardest  thing 
one  man  can  tell  another.  Dinah  wishes  to  be  released 
from  her  engagement.  "  . 

His  words  were  brief  but  very  distinct.  He  stiffened  as 
he  uttered  them,  almost  as  if  he  expected  a  blow. 

But  Sir  Eustace  stood  silent  and  still,  with  only  the 
growing  menace  in  his  eyes  to  show  that  he  had  heard. 

Several  seconds  dragged  away  ere  he  made  either  sound 
or  movement.  Then,  with  a  sudden,  fierce  gesture,  he 
gripped  Scott  by  the  shoulder.  "And  you  have  the  damn- 
able impertinence  to  come  and  tell  me!"  he  said. 


The  Lion  in  the  Path  389 

There  was  violence  barely  restrained  in  voice  and  action. 
He  held  Scott  as  if  he  would  fling  him  against  the  wall. 

But  Scott  remained  absolutely  passive,  enduring  the 
savage  grip  with  no  sign  of  resentment.  Only  into  his 
steady  eyes  there  came  that  gleam  as  of  steel  that  leaps  to 
steel. 

"I  have  told  you,"  he  said,  "because  I  have  no  choice. 
She  wishes  to  be  set  free,  and — she  fears  you  too  much  to 
tell  you  so  herself. " 

Sir  Eustace  broke  in  upon  him  with  a  furious  laugh  that 
was  in  some  fashion  more  insulting  than  a  blow  on  the 
mouth.  "And  she  has  deputed  you  to  do  so  on  her  behalf! 
Highly  suitable!  Or  did  you  volunteer  for  the  job,  most 
fearless  knight?" 

"I  offered  to  help  her — certainly."  Scott's  voice  was 
as  free  from  agitation  as  his  pose.  "I  would  help  any 
woman  under  such  circumstances.  It's  no  easy  thing  for 
her  to  break  off  her  engagement  at  this  stage.  And  she  is 
such  a  child.  She  needs  help. " 

"She  shall  have  it,"  said  Eustace  grimly.  "But — since 
you  are  here — I  will  deal  with  you  first.  Do  you  think  I  am 
going  to  endure  any  interference  in  this  matter  from  you? 
Think  it  over  calmly.  Do  you?" 

His  hold  upon  Scott  had  become  an  open  threat.  His 
eyes  were  a  red  blaze  of  anger.  In  that  moment  the 
animal  in  him  was  predominant,  overwhelming.  He  was 
furious  with  the  fury  of  the  wounded  beast  that  is  beyond 
all  control. 

Scott  realized  the  fact,  and  grasped  his  own  self-control 
with  a  firmer  hand.  "It's  no  good  my  telling  you  that  I 
hate  my  job, "  he  said.  "You'll  hardly  believe  me  if  I  do. 
But  I've  got  to  stick  to  it,  beastly  as  it  is.  I  can't  stand 
by  and  see  her  married  against  her  will.  For  that  is  what  it 
amounts  to.  She  would  give  anything  she  has  to  be  free. 
She  told  me  so.  I'm  infernally  sorry.  Perhaps  you  won't 


39°  Greatheart 

believe  that  either.  But  I've  got  to  see  this  thing  through 
now." 

"Have  you?"  said  Eustace,  and  suddenly  his  words 
came  clipped  and  harsh  from  between  set  teeth.  "And 
you  think  I'm  going  to  endure  it — stand  aside  tamely — 
while  you  turn  an  attack  of  stage-fright  into  a  just  cause 
and  impediment  to  prevent  my  marriage!  I  should  have 
thought  you  would  have  known  me  better  by  this  time. 
But  if  you  don't,  you  shall  learn.  Now  listen!  I  am  in 
dead  earnest.  If  you  don't  drop  this  foolery,  give  me  your 
word  of  honour  here  and  now  to  leave  this  matter  in  my 
hands  alone, — I'll  thrash  you  to  a  pulp!" 

He  spoke  with  terrible  intention.  His  whole  being 
pulsated  behind  the  words.  And  Scott's  slight  frame 
stiffened  to  rigidity  in  answer. 

"You  may  grind  me  to  powder!"  he  flung  back,  and  in 
his  voice  there  sounded  a  curiously  vibrant  quality  as  of 
finely-tempered  steel  that  will  bend  but  never  break. 
"But  you  can't — and  you  shan't — force  that  child  into 
marrying  you  against  her  will!  That  I  swear — by  God  in 
Heaven!" 

There  was  amazing  force  in  the  utterance,  he  also  had 
thrown  off  the  shackles.  But  his  strength  had  about  it 
nothing  of  the  brute.  Stripped  to  the  soul,  he  stood  up  a 
man. 

And  against  his  will  Eustace  recognized  the  fact,  realized 
the  Invincible  manifest  in  the  cla}r,  and  in  spite  of  himself 
was  influenced  thereby.  The  savage  in  him  drew  back 
abashed,  aware  of  mastery. 

Abruptly  he  released  him  and  turned  away.  "You're  a 
fool  to  tempt  me, ' '  he  said.  ' '  And  a  still  greater  fool  to  take 
her  seriously.  As  I  tell  you,  it's  nothing  but  stage-fright. 
She  had  a  touch  of  it  yesterday.  I'll  come  round  presently 
and  make  it  all  right. " 

"You  can  only  make  it  right  by  setting  her  free, "  Scott 


The  Lion  in  the  Path  391 

made  answer.  ' '  There  is  no  other  course.  Do  you  suppose 
I  should  have  come  to  you  in  this  way  if  there  had  been?" 

Sir  Eustace  was  moving  to  the  door  by  which  he  had 
entered.  He  flung  a  backward  look  that  was  intensely  evil 
over  his  shoulder  at  the  puny  figure  of  the  man  behind 
him. 

"I  can  imagine  you  playing  any  damned  trick  under  the 
sun  to  serve  your  own  interests,  "  he  said,  his  lip  curling  in 
in  an  intolerable  sneer.  "But  the  deepest  strategy  fails 
occasionally.  You  haven't  been  quite  subtle  enough  this 
time. " 

He  was  at  the  door  as  he  uttered  the  last  biting  sentence, 
but  so  also  was  Scott.  With  a  movement  of  incredible 
swiftness  and  impetuosity  he  flung  himself  forward.  Their 
hands  met  upon  the  handle,  and  his  remained  in  possession, 
for  in  sheer  astonishment  Eustace  drew  back. 

They  faced  one  another  in  the  evening  light,  Scott  pale 
to  the  lips,  in  his  eyes  an  electric  blaze  that  made  them 
almost  unbearably  bright,  Eustace,  heavy-browed,  lower- 
ing, the  red  glare  of  savagery  gleaming  like  a  smouldering 
flame,  ready  to  leap  forth  in  devastating  fury  to  meet  the 
fierce  white  heat  that  confronted  him. 

An  awful  silence  hung  between  them — a  silence  of 
unutterable  emotions,  more  poignant  with  passion  than 
any  strife  or  clash  of  weapons.  And  through  it  like  a 
mocking  under-current  there  ran  the  distant  tinkle  of  the 
piano,  the  echoes  of  careless  laughter  beyond  the  closed 
door. 

Then  at  last — it  seemed  with  difficulty — Scott  spoke, 
his  voice  very  low,  oddly  jerky.  "What  do  you  mean 
by  that?  Tell  me  what  you  mean !" 

Sir  Eustace  made  an  abrupt  gesture, — the  gesture  of 
the  swordsman  on  guard.  He  met  the  attack  instantly 
and  unwaveringly,  but  his  look  was  wary.  He  did  not 
seek  to  throw  the  lesser  man  from  his  path.  As  it  were 


392  Greatheart 

instinctively,  though  possibly  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
he  treated  him  as  an  equal. 

"You  know  what  I  mean!"  he  made  fierce  rejoinder. 
"Even  you  can  hardly  pretend  ignorance  on  that  point." 

"Even  I!"  Scott  uttered  a  short,  hard  laugh  that  seemed 
to  escape  him  against  his  will.  "All  the  same,  I  will  have 
an  explanation,"  he  said.  "I  prefer  a  straight  charge, 
notwithstanding  my  damned  subtlety.  You  will  either 
explain  or  withdraw. " 

"As  you  like!"  Sir  Eustace  yielded  the  point,  and  again 
he  acted  instinctively,  not  realizing  that  he  had  no  choice. 
"I  mean  that  from  the  very  beginning  of  things  you  have 
been  influencing  her  against  me,  trying  to  win  her  from  me. 
You  never  intended  me  to  propose  to  her  in  the  first  place. 
You  never  imagined  that  I  would  do  such  a  thing.  You 
only  thought  of  driving  me  off  the  ground  and  clearing  it 
for  yourself.  I  saw  your  game  long  ago.  When  you  lost 
one  trick,  you  tried  for  another.  I  knew — I  knew  all 
along.  But  the  game  is  up  now,  and  you've  lost. "  A  very 
bitter  smile  curved  his  mouth  with  the  words.  "There  is 
your  explanation,  "  he  said.  "  I  hope  you  are  satisfied. " 

"But  I  am  not  satisfied!"  Quick  as  lightning  came  the 
riposte.  Scott  stood  upright  against  the  closed  door. 
His  eyes,  unflickering,  dazzlingly  bright,  were  fixed  upon 
his  brother's  face.  "I  am  not  satisfied, "  he  repeated,  and 
his  words  were  as  sternly  direct  as  his  look ;  he  spoke  as  one 
compelled  by  some  inner,  driving  force,  "because  what  you 
have  just  said  to  me — this  foul  thing  you  believe  of  me — is 
utterly  and  absolutely  without  foundation.  I  have  never 
tried — or  dreamed  of  trying — to  win  her  from  you.  I  speak 
as  before  God.  In  this  matter  I  have  never  been  other  than 
loyal  either  to  you  or  to  my  own  honour.  If  any  other  man 
insulted  me  in  this  fashion,  "  his  face  worked  a  little,  but  he 
controlled  it  sharply,  "I  wouldn't  have  stooped  to  answer 
him.  But  you — I  suppose  I  must  allow  you  the — privilege 


The  Lion  in  the  Path  393 

of  brotherhood.  And  so  I  ask  you  to  believe — at  least  to 
make  an  effort  to  believe — that  you  have  made  a  mistake." 

His  voice  was  absolutely  quiet  as  he  ended.  The  dignity 
of  his  utterance  had  in  it  even  a  touch  of  the  sublime,  and 
the  elder  man  was  aware  of  it,  felt  the  force  of  it,  was  hum- 
bled by  it.  He  stood  a  moment  or  two  as  one  irresolute, 
halting  at  a  difficult  choice.  Then,  with  an  abrupt  lift  of 
the  head  as  though  his  pride  made  fierce  resistance,  he  gave 
ground. 

"If  I  have  wronged  you,  I  apologize,"  he  said  with 
brevity. 

Scott  smiled  faintly,  wryly.     "If — "  he  said. 

"Very  well,  I  withdraw  the  'if."  Sir  Eustace  spoke 
impatiently,  not  as  one  desiring  reconciliation.  "You  laid 
yourself  open  to  it  by  accepting  the  position  of  ambassador. 
I  don't  know  how  you  could  seriously  imagine  that  I  would 
treat  with  you  in  that  capacity.  If  Dinah  has  anything  to 
say  to  me,  she  must  say  it  herself. " 

"She  will  do  so,"  Scott  spoke  with  steady  assurance. 
"But  before  you  see  her,  I  think  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  her 
reason  for  wishing  to  be  set  free  is  not  stage-fright  or  any 
childish  nonsense  of  that  kind;  but  simply  the  plain  fact 
that  her  heart  is  not  in  the  compact.  She  has  found  out  that 
she  doesn't  love  you  enough. " 

"She  told  you  so?"  demanded  Sir  Eustace. 

Scott  bent  his  head,  for  the  first  time  averting  his  eyes 
from  his  brother's  face.  "Yes." 

"And  she  wished  you  to  tell  me?"  There  was  a  metallic 
ring  in  Sir  Eustace's  voice;  the  red  glare  was  gone  from  his 
eyes,  they  were  cold  and  hard  as  a  winter  sky. 

"Yes,"  Scott  said  again,  still  not  looking  at  him. 

"And  why?"  The  words  fell  brief  and  imperious,  com- 
pelling in  their  incisiveness. 

Scott's  eyes  returned  to  his,  almost  in  protest.  "I  told 
her  you  ought  to  know,"  he  said. 


394  Greatheart 

"Then  she  would  not  have  told  me  otherwise?" 

"Possibly  not." 

There  fell  another  silence.  Sir  Eustace  looked  hard  and 
straight  into  the  pale  eyes,  as  though  he  would  pierce  to 
the  soul  behind.  But  though  Scott  met  the  look  unwaver- 
ing, his  soul  was  beyond  all  scrutiny.  There  was  some- 
thing about  him  that  baffled  all  search,  something  colossal 
that  barred  the  way.  For  the  second  time  Sir  Eustace 
realized  himself  to  be  at  a  disadvantage ;  haughtily  he  passed 
the  matter  by. 

' '  In  that  case  there  is  nothing  further  to  be  said.  You 
have  fulfilled  your  somewhat  rash  undertaking,  and  that 
you  have  come  out  of  the  business  with  a  whole  skin  is  a 
bigger  piece  of  luck  than  you  deserved.  If  Dinah  wishes 
this  matter  to-  go  any  further,  she  must  come  to  me 
herself." 

"Otherwise  you  will  take  no  action?"  Scott's  voice  had 
its  old  somewhat  weary  intonation.  The  animation 
seemed  to  have  died  out  of  him. 

"Exactly."  Sir  Eustace  answered  him  with  equal 
deliberation.  "So  far  as  you  are  concerned  the  incident 
is  now  closed." 

Scott  took  his  hand  from  the  door  and  moved  slowly  away. 
"  I  have  put  the  whole  case  before  you, "  he  said.  "  I  think 
you  clearly  understand  that  if  you  are  going  to  try  and  use 
force,  I  am  bound — as  a  friend — to  take  her  part  against 
you.  She  relies  upon  me  for  that,  and — I  shall  not  dis- 
appoint her.  You  see, "  a  hint  of  compassion  sounded  in 
his  voice,  "she  has  always  been  afraid  of  you;  and  she  knows 
that  I  am  not." 

Sir  Eustace  smiled  cynically.  "Oh,  you  have  always 
been  ready  to  rush  in!"  he  said.  "Doubtless  your  weak- 
ness is  your  strength. " 

Scott  met  the  gibe  with  tightened  lips.  He  made  no 
attempt  to  reply  to  it.  "The  only  thing  left,"  he  said 


The  Lion  in  the  Path  395 

quietly,  "is  for  you  to  see  her  and  hear  what  she  has  to 
say.  She  is  waiting  in  the  conservatory." 

"She  is  waiting?"  Eustace  wheeled  swiftly. 

Scott  was  already  half-way  across  the  room.  He  strode 
forward,  and  intercepted  him. 

"You  can  go,"  he  said  curtly.  "You  have  done  your 
part.  This  business  is  mine,  not  yours. " 

Scott  stood  still.  "  I  have  promised  to  see  her  through, " 
he  said.  "I  must  keep  my  promise." 

Sir  Eustace  looked  for  a  single  instant  as  if  he  would 
strike  him  down;  and  then  abruptly,  inexplicably  he  gave 
way. 

"Very  well,"  he  said.     "Fetch  her  in!" 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

THE   TRUTH 

AT  Scott's  quiet  summons  Dinah  entered.  What  she 
had  passed  through  during  those  minutes  of  waiting 
was  written  in  her  face.  She  looked  deathly. 

Sir  Eustace. did  not  move  to  meet  her.  He  stood  by 
the  table,  very  upright,  very  stern,  uncompromisingly 
silent. 

Dinah  gave  him  one  quivering  glance,  and  turned  appeal- 
ingly  to  Scott. 

"  Don't  be  nervous!"  he  said  gently.  "There  is  no  need. 
I  have  told  him  your  wish." 

She  was  terrified,  but  the  ordeal  had  to  be  faced.  She 
summoned  all  her  strength,  and  went  forward. 

"Oh,  Eustace,"  she  said  piteously,  "I  am  so  dreadfully 
sorry." 

He  looked  down  at  her,  his  face  like  a  marble  mask. 
"So,"  he  said,  "you  want  to  throw  me  over!" 

She  clasped  her  hands  very  tightly  before  her.  "Oh,  I 
know  it's  hateful  of  me,"  she  said. 

He  made  a  slight,  disdainful  gesture.  "  Did  you  make  up 
your  mind  or  did  Scott  make  it  up  for  you?" 

"No,  no!"  she  cried  in  distress.  "It  was  not  his  doing. 
I — I  just  told  him,  that  was  all." 

"And  you  now  desire  him  for  a  witness,"  suggested  Sir 
Eustace  cynically. 

Dinah  looked  again  towards  Scott.  He  stood  against 

396 


The  Truth  397 

the  mantelpiece,  as  grimly  upright  as  his  brother  and  again 
oddly  she  was  struck  by  the  similarity  between  them. 
She  could  not  have  said  wherein  it  lay,  but  she  had  never 
seen  it  more  marked. 

He  spoke  very  quietly  in  answer  to  her  look.  "I  have 
promised  to  stay  for  as  long  as  you  want  me,  but  if  you  wish 
to  be  alone  with  Eustace  for  a  few  minutes,  I  will  wait  in  the 
conservatory." 

"Yes,  let  him  do  that ! "  Imperiously  Eustace  accepted  the 
suggestion.  "We  shall  not  keep  him  long." 

Dinah  stood  hesitating.  Scott  was  looking  at  her  very 
steadily  and  reassuringly.  His  eyes  seemed  to  be  telling 
her  that  she  had  nothing  to  fear.  But  he  would  not  move 
without  her  word,  and  in  the  end  reluctantly  she  gave  in. 

"Very  well,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "If — if  you  will 
wait!" 

"I  will,"  Scott  said. 

He  limped  across  the  room  to  the  open  door,  passed 
through,  closed  it  softly  behind  him.  And  Dinah  was  left 
to  face  her  monster  alone. 

She  did  not  look  at  Sir  Eustace  in  the  first  dreadful 
moments  that  followed  Scott's  exit.  She  was  horribly 
afraid.  There  was  to  her  something  inexpressibly  ruthless 
in  his  very  silence.  She  longed  yet  dreaded  to  hear  him 
speak. 

He  did  not  do  so  for  many  seconds,  and  she  thought  by 
his  utter  stillness  that  he  must  be  listening  to  the  wild 
throbbing  of  her  heart. 

Then  at  last,  just  as  the  tension  of  waiting  was  becoming 
unbearable  and  she  was  on  the  verge  of  piteous  entreaty, 
he  seated  himself  on  the  edge  of  the  table  and  spoke. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "we  have  got  to  get  at  the  root  of  this 
trouble  somehow.  You  don't  propose  to  throw  me  over 
without  telling  me  why,  I  suppose?" 

His  voice  was  perfectly  calm.     She  even  fancied  that  he 


398  Greatheart 

was  faintly  smiling  as  he  uttered  the  words,  but  she  could 
not  look  at  him  to  see.  She  found  it  difficult  enough  to 
speak  in  answer. 

"I  know  I  am  treating  you  very  badly,"  she  said,  wring- 
ing her  clasped  hands  in  her  agitation.  "You — of  course 
you  can  make  me  marry  you.  I've  promised  myself  to  you. 
You  have  the  right.  But  if  you  will  only — only  let  me  go, 
I  am  sure  it  will  be  much  better  for  you  too.  Because — 
because — I've  found  out — I've  found  out — that  I  don't 
love  you." 

It  was  the  greatest  effort  she  had  ever  made  in  her  life. 
She  wondered  afterwards  how  she  had  ever  brought  herself 
to  accomplish  it.  It  was  so  hard — so  hideously  hard — to 
face  him,  this  man  who  loved  her  so  overwhelmingly,  and 
tell  him  that  he  had  failed  to  win  her  love  in  return.  And 
at  the  eleventh  hour — to  treat  him  thus !  If  he  had  taken 
her  by  the  throat  and  wrung  her  neck,  she  would  have 
considered  him  justified  and  herself  but  righteously  pun- 
ished. 

But  he  did  nothing  of  a  violent  nature.  He  only  sat  there 
looking  at  her,  and  though  she  could  not  bring  herself  to 
meet  his  look  she  knew  that  it  held  no  anger. 

He  did  not  speak,  and  she  went  on  with  a  species  of 
desperate  pleading,  because  silence  was  so  intolerable. 
"It  wouldn't  be  right  of  me  to — to  marry  you  and  not  tell 
you,  would  it?  It  wouldn't  be  fair.  It  would  be  like 
marrying  you  under  false  pretences.  I  only  wish — oh,  I  do 
wish — that  I  had  known  sooner,  when  you  first  asked  me. 
I  might  have  known.  I  ought  to  have  known !  But — but 
— somehow — "  she  began  to  falter  badly  and  finally  con- 
cluded in  a  piteous  whisper — "I  didn't." 

"How  did  you  find  out?"  he  said.  His  tone  was  still 
perfectly  quiet;  but  he  spoke  judicially,  as  one  who  meant 
to  have  an  answer. 

But  Dinah  had  no  answer  for  him.     It  was  the  very 


The  Truth  399 

question  to  which  there  could  be  no  reply.  Her  ringers 
interlaced  and  strained  against  each  other.  She  stood 
mute. 

"I  think  you  can  tell  me  that, "  Eustace  said. 

She  made  a  small  but  vehement  gesture  of  negation.  "I 
can't!"  she  said.  "It's — it's — private." 

"You  mean  you  won't?"  he  questioned. 

She  nodded  silently,  too  distressed  for  speech. 

He  got  to  his  feet  with  finality.  "That  ends  the  case 
then,"  he  said.  "The  appeal  is  dismissed.  You  can  give 
me  no  adequate  reason  for  releasing  you.  Therefore,  I 
keep  you  to  your  engagement." 

Dinah  uttered  a  gasp.  She  had  not  expected  this.  For 
the  first  time  she  met  his  look  fully,  met  the  blue,  dominant 
eyes,  the  faint,  supercilious  smile.  And  dismay  struck 
through  and  through  her  as  she  realized  that  he  had  made 
her  captive  again  with  scarcely  a  struggle. 

"Oh,  but  you  can't — you  can't!"  she  said. 

He  raised  his  brows.  "We  shall  see,  "  he  said.  "Mean- 
time— "  He  paused,  looking  at  her,  and  suddenly  the  old 
hot  glitter  flashed  forth,  dazzling  her,  hypnotizing  her;  he 
uttered  a  low  laugh  and  took  her  in  his  arms.  "Daphne, 
you  will-o'-the-wisp,  you  witch,  how  dare  you?" 

She  made -no  outcry  or  resistance,  realizing  in  a  single 
stunning  second  the  mastery  that  would  not  be  denied; 
only  ere  his  lips  reached  her  she  sank  down  in  his  hold,  hid- 
ing her  face  and  praying  him  brokenly,  imploringly,  to  let 
her  go. 

"Oh,  please — oh,  please — if  you  love  me — do  be  kind — 
do  be  generous!  I  can't  go  on — indeed — indeed!  Oh, 
Eustace, — Eustace — do  forgive  me — and  let  me  go!" 

"I  will  not!"  he  said.     "I  will  not!" 

She  heard  the  rising  passion  in  his  voice,  and  her  heart 
died  within  her;  she  sank  lower,  till  but  for  his  upholding 
arms  she  would  have  been  kneeling  at  his  feet.  And  then 


400  Greatheart 

quite  suddenly  her  strength  went  from  her ;  she  hung  power- 
less, almost  fainting  in  his  grasp. 

She  scarcely  knew  what  happened  next,  save  that  the 
fierceness  went  out  of  his  hold  like  the  passing  of  an  evil 
dream.  He  lifted  and  held  her  while  the  darkness  surged 
around.  .  .  .  And  then  presently  she  heard  his  voice, 
very  low,  amazingly  tender,  speaking  into  her  ear. 
"Dinah!  Dinah!  What  has  come  to  you?  Don't  you 
know  that  I  love  you?  Didn't  I  tell  you  so  only  last 
night?" 

She  leaned  against  him  palpitating,  unstrung,  piteously 
distressed.  "That's  what  makes  it — so  dreadful,"  she 
whispered.  ' '  I  wish  I  were  dead !  Oh,  I  do  wish  I  were 
dead!" 

"Nonsense!"  he  said.  "Nonsense!"  He  put  his  hand 
upon  her  head,  pressing  it  against  his  breast.  "Little  sweet- 
heart, what  has  happened  to  you?  Tell  me  what  is  the 
matter!" 

That  was  the  hardest  to  face  of  all,  that  he  should  subdue 
himself,  restrain  his  passion  to  pour  out  to  her  that  which 
was  infinitely  greater  than  passion ;  she  made  a  little  sound 
that  seemed  to  come  straight  from  her  heart. 

"Oh,  I  can't  tell  you!"  she  sobbed  into  his  shoulder. 
"I  can't  think  how  I  ever  made  such  a  terrible  mistake. 
But  if  only — oh,  if  only — you  could  marry  Rose  instead! 
It  would  be  so  very  much  better  for  everybody. " 

"Marry  Rose!"  he  said.  "What  on  earth  made  you 
think  of  that  at  this  stage?" 

"I  always  thought  you  would — in  Switzerland,"  she 
explained  rather  incoherently.  "I — never  really  thought — 
I  could  cut  her  out. " 

"  Is  that  what  you  did  it  for? "  An  odd  note  sounded  in 
Sir  Eustace's  voice,  as  though  some  irony  of  circumstance 
had  forced  his  sense  of  humour. 

"Just  at  first,"  whispered  Dinah.     "Ch,  don't  be  angry! 


The  Truth  401 

Please  don't  be  angry !  You — you  weren't  in  earnest  either 
just  at  first." 

He  considered  the  matter  in  silence  for  a  few  moments. 
Then  half -quizzically,  "I  don't  see  that  that  is  any  reason 
for  throwing  me  over  now,  "  he  said.  "  If  you  don't  love  me 
to-day,  you  will  to-morrow." 

She  shook  her  head. 

"Quite  sure?"  he  said. 

"Quite,"  she  answered  faintly. 

His  hand  was  still  upon  her  head,  and  it  remained  there. 
He  held  her  closely  pressed  to  him. 

For  a  space  again  he  was  silent,  his  dark  face  bent  over 
her,  his  lips  actually  touching  her  hair.  Of  what  was 
passing  in  his  mind  she  had  no  notion,  and  she  dared  not 
lift  her  head  to  look.  She  dreaded  each  moment  a  return  of 
that  tornado-like  passion  that  had  so  often  appalled  her. 
But  it  did  not  come.  His  arms  held  her  indeed,  but  with- 
out violence,  and  in  his  stillness  there  was  no  tension  to 
denote  its  presence. 

He  spoke  at  length,  almost  whispering.  "Dinah,  who  is 
the  lucky  fellow  ?  Tell  me ! " 

She  started  away  from  him.  She  almost  cried  out  in  her 
dismay.  But  he  stopped  her.  He  took  her  face  between 
his  hands  with  an  insistence  that  would  not  be  denied.  He 
looked  closely,  searchingly,  into  her  eyes. 

"Is  it  Scott?"  he  said. 

She  did  not  answer  him.  She  stood  as  one  paralysed,  and 
up  over  face  and  neck  and  all  her  trembling  body,  enwrap- 
ping her  like  a  flame,  there  rose  a  scorching,  agonizing 
blush. 

He  held  her  there  before  him  and  watched  it,  and  she 
saw  that  his  eyes  were  piercingly  bright,  with  the  bright- 
ness of  burnished  steel.  She  could  not  turn  her  own  away 
from  them,  though  her  whole  soul  shrank  from  that  stark 
scrutiny.  In  anguish  of  mind  she  faced  him,  helpless, 

36 


402  Greatheart 

unutterably  ashamed,  while  that  burning  blush  throbbed 
fiercely  through  every  vein  and  gradually  died  away. 

He  let  her  go  at  last  very  slowly.  "I — see,"  he 
said. 

She  put  her  hands  up  over  her  face  with  a  childish, 
piteous  gesture.  She  felt  as  if  he  had  ruthlessly  torn  from 
her  the  one  secret  treasure  that  she  cherished.  She  was 
free — she  knew  she  was  free.  But  at  what  a  cost! 

"So,"  Eustace  said,  "that's  it,  is  it?  We've  got  at  the 
truth  at  last!" 

She  quivered  at  the  words.  Her  whole  being  seemed  to 
be  shrivelled  as  though  it  had  passed  through  the  fire. 
He  had  wrenched  her  secret  from  her,  and  she  had  nothing 
more  to  hide. 

Sir  Eustace  walked  to  the  end  of  the  room  and  back. 
He  halted  close  to  her,  but  he  did  not  touch  her.  He  spoke, 
briefly  and  sternly. 

"How  long  has  this  been  going  on?" 

She  looked  up  at  him,  her  face  pathetically  pinched  and 
small.  "It  hasn't  been  going  on.  I — only  realized  it  to- 
day. He  doesn't  know.  He  never  must  know!"  A 
sudden  sharp  note  of  anxiety  sounded  in  her  voice.  "He 
never  must  know!"  she  reiterated  with  emphasis. 

"He  hasn't  made  love  to  you  then?"  Sir  Eustace  spoke 
in  the  same  curt  tone;  his  mouth  was  merciless. 

She  started  as  if  stung.  "Oh  no !  Oh  no !  Of  course  he 
hasn't!  He — he  doesn't  care  for  me — like  that.  Why 
should  he?" 

Eustace's  grim  lips  twitched  a  little.  "Why  indeed? 
Well,  it's  lucky  for  him  he  hasn't.  If  he  had,  I'd  have  half 
killed  him  for  it!" 

There  was  concentrated  savagery  in  his  tone.  His  eyes 
shone  with  a  fire  that  made  her  shrink.  And  then  very 
suddenly  he  put  his  hand  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  you  want  to  throw  me  over 


The  Truth  403 

solely  because  you  imagine  you  care  for  a  man  who  doesn't 
care  for  you?"  he  asked. 

She  looked  up  at  him  piteously,  "  Oh,  please  don't  ask  me 
any  more!"  she  said. 

"But  I  want  to  know,"  he  said  stubbornly.  "Is  that 
your  only  reason?" 

With  difficulty  she  answered  him.     "No." 

"Then  what  more?"  he  demanded. 

It  was  inevitable.  She  made  a  desperate  effort  to  be 
brave.  "I  couldn't  be  happy  with  you.  I  am  afraid  of 
you.  And — and — you  are  not  kind  to — to  Isabel." 

"  Who  says  I  am  not  kind  to  Isabel? "  His  hand  pressed 
upon  her  ominously;  his  look  was  implacably  stern. 

But  the  effort  to  be  brave  had  given  her  strength.  She 
stiffened  in  his  hold.  "  I  know  it, "  she  said.  "  I  have  seen 
it.  She  is  always  miserable  when  you  are  there." 

He  frowned  upon  her  heavily.  "You  don't  understand. 
Isabel  is  very  hysterical.  She  needs  a  firm  hand. " 

"You  are  more  than  firm,"  Dinah  said.  "You  are — 
cruel." 

Never  in  her  wildest  moments  had  she  imagined  herself 
making  such  an  indictment.  She  marvelled  at  herself  even 
as  it  left  her  lips.  But  something  seemed  to  have  entered 
into  her,  taking  away  her  fear.  Not  till  long  afterwards 
did  she  realize  that  it  was  her  new-found  womanhood  that 
had  come  upon  her  all  unawares  during  that  poignant 
interview. 

She  faced  him  without  a  tremor  as  she  uttered  the  words, 
and  he  received  them  in  a  silence  so  absolute  that  she  went 
on  with  scarcely  a  pause.  "Not  only  to  Isabel,  but  to 
everyone;  to  Scott,  to  that  poor  poacher,  to  me.  You 
don't  believe  it,  because  it  is  your  nature.  But  it  is  true  all 
the  same.  And  I  think  cruelty  is  a  most  dreadful  thing. 
It's  a  vice  that  not  all  the  virtues  put  together  could  counter- 
balance." 


404  Greatheart 

"When  have  I  been  cruel  to  you?"  he  said. 

His  tone  was  quiet,  his  face  mask-like;  but  she  thought 
that  fury  raged  behind  his  calm.  And  still  she  knew  no 
fear,  felt  no  faintest  dread  of  consequence. 

"All  your  love-making  has  been  cruel, "  she  said.  " Only 
once — no,  twice  now — have  you  been  the  least  bit  kind  to 
me.  It's  no  good  talking.  You'd  never  understand.  I've 
lain  awake  often  in  the  night  with  the  dread  of  you.  But " — 
her  voice  shook  slightly — "  I  didn't  know  what  I  wanted,  so 
I  kept  on.  Now  that  I  do  know — though  I  shall  never  have 
it — it's  made  a  difference,  and  I  can't  go  on.  You  don't 
want  me  any  more  now  I've  told  you,  so  it  won't  hurt  you 
so  very  badly  to  let  me  go." 

"You  are  wrong,"  he  said,  and  suddenly  she  knew  that 
out  of  his  silence  or  her  speech  had  developed  something 
that  was  strange  and  new.  His  voice  was  quick  and  low, 
utterly  devoid  of  its  customary  arrogance.  "I  want  you 
more  than  ever!  Dinah — Dinah,  I  may  have  been  a  brute 
to  you.  You're  right.  I  often  am  a  brute.  But  marry 
me — only  marry  me — and  I  swear  to  you  that  I  will  be 
kind!" 

His  calm  was  gone.  He  leaned  towards  her  urgently,  his 
dark  face  aglow  with  a  light  that  was  not  passion.  She 
had  deemed  him  furious,  and  behold,  she  had  him  at  her 
feet !  Her  ogre  was  gone  for  ever.  He  had  crumbled  at  a 
touch.  She  saw  before  her  a  man,  a  man  who  loved  her,  a 
man  whom  she  might  eventually  have  come  to  love  but 
for— 

She  caught  her  breath  in  a  sharp  sob,  and  put  forth  a 
hand  in  pleading.  "Eustace,  don't!  Please  don't!  I 
can't  bear  it.  You — you  must  set  me  free!" 

"You  are  free  as  air,"  he  said. 

' '  Am  I  ?  Then  don't — don't  ask  me  to  bind  myself  again ! 
For  I  can't — I  can't.  I  want  to  go  away.  I  want  to  be 
quiet. "  She  broke  down  suddenly.  The  strain  was  past, 


The  Truth  405 

the  battle  over.  She  had  vanquished  him,  how  she  scarcely 
knew;  but  her  own  brief  strength  was  tottering  now.  "Let 
me  go  home!"  she  begged.  "Tell  Scott  I've  gone!  Tell 
everyone  there  won't  be  a  wedding  after  all!  Say  I'm 
dreadfully  sorry !  It's  my  fault — all  my  fault!  I  ought  to 
have  known!"  Her  tears  blinded  her,  silenced  her.  She 
turned  towards  the  door. 

"Won't  you  say  good-bye  to  me?"  Eustace  said. 

Her  voice  was  low  and  very  steady.  The  glow  was  gone. 
He  was  calm  again,  absolutely  calm.  With  the  failure  of 
that  one  urgent  appeal,  he  seemed  to  have  withdrawn  his 
forces,  accepting  defeat. 

She  turned  back  gropingly.     "Good-bye — good-bye — ' 
she  whispered,  "and — thank  you!" 

He  put  his  arm  around  her,  and  bending  kissed  her 
forehead.  "Don't  cry,  dear!"  he  said. 

His  manner  was  perfectly  kind,  supremely  gentle.  She 
hardly  knew  him  thus.  Again  her  heart  smote  her  in 
overwhelming  self-reproach.  "Oh,  Eustace,  forgive  me  for 
hurting  you  so — forgive  me — for  all  I've  said!" 

"For  telling  me  the  truth?"  he  said.  "No,  I  don't 
forgive  you  for  that." 

She  broke  down  utterly  and  sobbed  aloud.  "I  wish — I 
wish  I  hadn't !  How  could  I  do  it  ?  I  hate  myself ! ' ' 

"No — no,"  he  said.  "It's  all  right.  You've  done  no- 
thing wrong.  Run  home,  child!  Don't  cry!  Don't 
cry!" 

His  hand  touched  her  hair  under  the  soft  cap,  touched 
and  lingered.  But  he  did  not  hold  her  to  him. 

"Run  home!"  he  said  again. 

"And  —  and — you  won't — won't — tell  —  Scott?"  she 
whispered  through  her  tears. 

"But  I  don't  think  even  I  am  such  a  bounder  as  that!" 
he  said  gently.  " Do  you? " 

She  lifted  her  face  impulsively.     She  kissed  him  with 


406  Greatheart 

quivering  lips.     "No — no.    I  didn't  mean  it.     Good-bye! 
Oh,  good-bye!" 

He  kissed  her  in  return.     "Good-bye!"  he  said. 

And  so  they  parted. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE    FURNACE 

'"PHE  bridal  dress  with  its  filmy  veil  still  lay  in  its 
A  white  box — a  fairy  garment  that  had  survived  the 
catastrophe.  Dinah  sat  and  looked  at  it  dully.  The  light 
of  her  single  candle  shimmered  upon  the  soft  folds.  How 
beautiful  it  was ! 

She  had  been  sitting  there  for  hours,  after  a  terrible  scene 
with  her  mother  downstairs,  and  from  acute  distress  she 
had  passed  into  a  state  of  torpid  misery  that  enveloped  her 
like  a  black  cloud.  She  felt  almost  too  exhausted,  too 
numbed,  to  think.  Her  thoughts  wandered  drearily  back 
and  forth.  She  was  sure  she  had  been  very  greatly  to 
blame,  yet  she  could  not  fix  upon  any  definite  juncture  at 
which  she  had  begun  to  go  wrong.  Her  engagement  had 
been  such  a  whirlwind  of  Fate.  She  had  been  carried  off  her 
feet  from  the  very  beginning.  And  the  deliverance  from 
the  home  bondage  had  seemed  so  fair  a  prospect.  Now  she 
was  plunged  back  again  into  that  bondage,  and  she  was 
firmly  convinced  that  no  chance  of  freedom  would  ever  be 
offered  to  her  again.  Yet  she  knew  that  she  had  done 
right  to  draw  back.  Regret  it  though  she  might  again  and 
again  in  the  bitter  days  to  come,  she  knew — and  she  would 
always  know — that  at  the  eleventh  hour  she  had  done 
right. 

She  had  been  true  to  the  greatest  impulse  that  had  ever 
stirred  her  soul.  It  had  been  at  a  frightful  cost.  She  had 

407 


408  Greatheart 

sacrificed  everything — everything — to  a  vision  that  she 
might  never  realize.  She  had  cast  away  all  the  glitter  and 
the  wealth  for  this  far  greater  thing  which  yet  could  never 
be  more  to  her  than  a  golden  dream.  She  had  even  cast 
away  love,  and  her  heart  still  bled  at  the  memory.  But  she 
had  been  true — she  had  been  true. 

Not  yet  was  the  sacrifice  ended.  She  knew  that  a  cruel 
ordeal  yet  awaited  her.  There  was  the  morrow  to  be  faced, 
the  morrow  with  its  renewal  of  disgrace  and  punishment. 
Her  mother  was  furious  with  her,  so  furious  that  for  the 
first  time  in  her  life  her  father  had  intervened  on  her  behalf 
and  temporarily  restrained  the  flow  of  wrath.  Perhaps 
he  had  seen  her  utter  weariness,  for  he  had  advised  her,  not 
unkindly,  to  go  to  bed.  She  had  gone  to  her  room,  thank- 
ful to  escape,  but  neither  tea  nor  supper  had  followed  her 
thither.  Billy  had  come  to  bid  her  good  night  long  ago, 
but,  though  he  had  not  said  so,  he  also,  it  seemed,  was 
secretly  disgusted  with  her,  and  he  had  not  lingered.  It 
would  be  the  same  with  everyone,  she  thought  to  herself 
wearily.  No  one  would  ever  realize  how  terribly  hard  it 
had  all  been.  No  one  would  dream  of  extending  any  pity 
to  her.  And  of  course  she  had  done  wrong.  She  knew  it, 
was  quite  ready  to  admit  it.  But  the  wrong  had  lain  in 
accepting  that  overweaning  lover  of  hers,  not  in  giving  him 
up.  Also,  she  ought  to  have  found  out  long  ago.  She 
wondered  how  it  was  she  hadn't.  It  had  never  been  a 
happy  engagement. 

Again  her  eyes  wandered  to  the  exquisite  folds  of  that 
dress  which  she  was  never  to  wear.  How  she  had  loved 
the  thought  of  it  and  all  the  lovely  things  that  Isabel  had 
procured  for  her!  What  would  become  of  them  all,  she 
wondered?  All  the  presents  downstairs  would  have  to  go 
back.  Yes,  and  Eustace's  ring!  She  had  forgotten  that. 
She  slipped  it  off  her  finger  with  a  little  dry  sob,  and  put 
it  aside.  And  the  necklace  of  pearls  that  she  had  always 


The  Furnace  409 

thought  so  much  too  good  for  her,  but  which  would  have 
looked  so  beautiful  on  the  wedding-dress;  that  must  be 
returned.  Very  strangely  that  thought  pierced  the  dull 
ache  of  her  heart  with  a  mere  poignant  pain.  And  follow- 
ing it  came  another,  stabbing  her  like  a  knife.  The  sap- 
phire for  friendship — -his  sapphire — that  would  have  to  go 
too.  There  would  be  nothing  left  when  it  was  all  over. 

And  she  would  never  see  any  of  them  any  more.  She 
would  drop  out  of  their  lives  and  be  forgotten.  Even  Isabel 
would  not  want  her  now  that  she  had  behaved  so  badly. 
She  had  made  Sir  Eustace  the  talk  of  the  County.  So 
long  as  they  remembered  her  they  would  never  forgive  her 
for  that. 

Sir  Eustace  might  forgive.  He  had  been  extraordinarily 
generous.  A  lump  rose  in  her  throat  as  she  thought  of  him. 
But  the  de  Vignes,  all  those  wedding  guests  who  were  to 
have  honoured  the  occasion,  they  would  all  look  upon  her 
with  contumely  for  evermore.  No  wonder  her  mother  was 
enraged  against  her!  No  wonder!  No  wonder!  She 
would  never  have  another  chance  of  holding  up  her  head  in 
such  society  again. 

A  great  sigh  escaped  her.  What  was  the  good  of  sitting 
there  thinking?  She  had  undressed  long  ago,  and  she  was 
cold  from  head  to  foot.  Yet  somehow  she  had  forgot- 
ten or  been  too  miserable  to  go  to  bed.  She  supposed 
she  had  been  waiting  for  the  soothing  tears  that  did 
not  come.  Or  had  she  meant  to  pray?  She  could  not 
remember,  and  in  any  case  prayer  seemed  out  of  the 
question.  Her  life  had  been  filled  with  delight  for  a  few 
delirious  weeks,  but  it  had  all  drained  away.  She  did  not 
want  it  back  again.  She  scarcely  knew  what  she  wanted, 
save  the  great  Impossible  for  which  she  lacked  the  heart  to 
pray.  And  no  doubt  God  was  angry  with  her  too,  or  she 
could  not  feel  like  this !  So  what  was  the  good  of  attempt- 
ing it  ? 


410  Greatheart 

Wearily  she  turned  to  put  out  her  candle.  But  ere  her 
hand  reached  it,  she  paused  in  swift  apprehension. 

The  next  instant  sharply  she  started  round  to  see  the 
door  open,  and  her  mother  entered  the  room. 

Gaunt,  forbidding,  full  of  purpose,  she  walked  in,  and 
set  her  candle  down  beside  the  one  that  Dinah  had  been 
about  to  extinguish. 

"Get  up!"  she  said  to  the  startled  girl.  "Don't  sit 
there  gaping  at  me !  I've  come  here  to  give  you  a  lesson, 
and  it  will  be  a  pretty  severe  one  I  can  tell  you  if  you 
attempt  to  disobey  me." 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do?"  breathed  Dinah. 

She  stood  up  at  the  harsh  behest,  but  she  was  trembling 
so  much  that  her  knees  would  scarcely  support  her.  Her 
heart  was  throbbing  violently,  and  each  throb  seemed  as  if 
it  would  choke  her.  She  had  seen  that  inflexibly  grim  look 
often  before  upon  her  mother's  face,  and  she  knew  from 
bitter  experience  that  it  portended  merciless  treatment. 

Mrs.  Bathurst  did  not  reply  immediately.  She  went 
to  a  little  table  in  a  corner  which  Dinah  used  for  writing 
purposes,  and  opened  a  blotter  that  lay  upon  it.  From 
this  she  took  a  sheet  of  note-paper  and  laid  it  in  readiness, 
found  Dinah's  pen,  opened  the  ink-pot.  Then,  over  her 
shoulder,  she  flung  a  curt  command:  "Come  here!" 

Dinah  went,  every  nerve  in  her  body  tingling,  her  face 
and  hands  cold  as  ice. 

Mrs.  Bathurst  glanced  at  her  with  a  contemptuous  smile. 
"Sit  down,  you  little  fool ! "  she  said.  "Now,  you  take  that 
pen  and  write  at  my  dictation!" 

Dinah  shrank  at  the  rough  words.  She  felt  like  a  child 
about  to  receive  corporal  punishment.  The  vindictive 
force  of  the  woman  seemed  to  beat  her  down.  Writhe  and 
strain  as  she  might,  she  was  bound  to  suffer  both  the  pain 
and  the  indignity  to  the  uttermost  limit ;  for  she  lacked  the 
strength  to  break  free. 


The  Furnace  411 

She  did  not  sit  down  however.  She  remained  standing 
by  the  little  table. 

"Mother,"  she  said  through  her  white  lips,  "what  do 
you  want  me  to  do?" 

She  could  scarcely  keep  her  teeth  from  chattering,  and 
Mrs.  Bathurst  noted  the  fact  with  another  grim  smile. 

' '  What  am  I  going  to  make  you  do  would  be  more  to  the 
purpose,  my  girl,  wouldn't  it?"  she  said.  "Sit  down 
there,  and  you'll  find  out!" 

Dinah  leaned  upon  the  little  table  to  steady  herself. 
"Tell  me  what  it  is  I  am  to  do ! "  she  said. 

'  'Ah !  That's  better. ' '  A  note  of  bitter  humour  sounded 
in  Mrs.  Bathurst's  voice.  "Sit  down!" 

She  thrust  out  a  bony  hand,  and  gripped  her  by  the 
shoulder,  forcing  her  downwards. 

Dinah  dropped  into  the  chair,  and  sat  motionless. 

"Take  your  pen!"  Mrs.  Bathurst  commanded. 

She  hesitated;  and  instantly,  with  a  violent  movement, 
her  mother  snatched  it  up  and  held  it  in  front  of  her. 

"Take  it!" 

Dinah  took  it  with  fingers  so  numb  that  they  were  almost 
powerless. 

"Now,"  said  Mrs.  Bathurst,  "I  will  tell  you  what  you 
are  going  to  do.  You  are  going  to  write  to  Sir  Eustace 
at  my  dictation,  and  tell  him  that  you  are  very  sorry,  you 
have  made  a  mistake,  and  beg  him  to  forget  it  and  marry 
you  to-morrow  as  arranged. " 

"Mother!  No!"  Dinah  started  as  if  at  a  blow;  the 
pen  dropped  from  her  fingers.  "Oh  no!  I  can't  indeed — 
indeed!" 

"You  will!"  said  Mrs.  Bathurst. 

Her  hand  gripped  the  slender  shoulder  with  cruel  force. 
She  bent,  bringing  her  harsh  features  close  to  her  daughter's 
blanched  face. 

"Just  you  remember  one  thing!"  she  said,  her  voice  low 


412  Greatheart 

and  menacing.  "You've  never  succeeded  in  defying  me 
yet,  and  you  won't  do  it  now.  I'll  conquer  you — I'll  break 
you — if  it  takes  me  all  night  to  do  it!" 

Dinah  recoiled  before  the  unshackled  fury  that  sud- 
denly blazed  in  the  gipsy  eyes  that  looked  into  hers.  Sheer 
horror  sprang  into  her  own. 

"Oh,  but  I  can't — I  can't!"  she  reiterated  in  an  agony. 
"I  don't  love  him.  He  knows  it.  I  ought  to  have  found 
out  before,  but  I  didn't.  Mother — Mother — "  piteously 
she  began  to  plead — "you — you  can't  want  to  make  me 
marry  a  man  I  don't  love?  You — you  would  never — surely 
— have  done  such  a  thing  yourself!" 

Mrs.  Bathurst  made  a  sharp  gesture  as  if  something 
had  pierced  her.  She  shook  the  shoulder  she  grasped. 
"Love!"  she  said.  "Oh,  don't  talk  to  me  of  love!  Do 
you  imagine — have  you  ever  imagined — that  I  married 
that  fox-hunting  booby — for  love?" 

A  great  and  terrible  bitterness  that  was  like  the  hunger  of 
a  famished  animal  looked  out  of  her  eyes.  Dinah  gazed 
at  her  aghast.  What  new  and  horrible  revelation  was 
this?  She  felt  suddenly  sick  and  giddy. 

Her  mother  shook  her  again  roughly,  savagely.  "None 
of  that!"  she  said.  "Don't  think  I'll  put  up  with  it,  my 
fine  lady,  for  I  won't!  What  has  love  to  do  with  such  a 
chance  as  this?  Tell  me  that,  you  little  fool!  Do  you 
suppose  that  either  you  or  I  have  ever  been  in  a  position 
to  marry — for  love?" 

Her  face  was  darkly  passionate.  Dinah  felt  as  if  she 
were  in  the  clutches  of  a  tigress.  "What — what  do  you 
mean?"  she  faltered  through  her  quivering  lips. 

"What  do  I  mean?"  Mrs.  Bathurst  broke  into  a  sudden 
brutal  laugh.  "Ha!  What  do  I  mean?"  she  said.  "I'll 
tell  you,  shall  I?  Yes,  I'll  tell  you!  I'll  show  you  the 
shame  that  I've  covered  all  these  years.  I  mean  that  I 
married  because  of  you — for  no  other  reason.  I  married 


The  Furnace  413 

because  I'd  been  betrayed — and  left.  Now  do  you  under- 
stand why  it  isn't  for  you  to  pick  and  choose — you  who  have 
been  the  plague-spot  of  my  life,  the  thorn  in  my  side  ever 
since  you  first  stirred  there — a  perpetual  reminder  of 
what  I  would  have  given  my  very  soul  to  forget  ?  Do  you 
understand,  I  say?  Do  you  understand?  Or  must  I  put 
it  plainer  still?  You — the  child  of  my  shame — to  dare 
to  set  yourself  up  against  me!" 

She  ended  upon  what  was  almost  a  note  of  loathing,  and 
Dinah  shuddered  from  head  to  foot.  It  was  to  her  as  if 
she  had  been  rolled  in  pitch.  She  felt  overwhelmed  with 
the  cruel  degradation  of  it,  the  unspeakable  shame. 

Mrs.  Bathurst  watched  her  anguished  distress  with  a 
species  of  bitter  satisfaction.  "That'll  take  the  fight  out 
of  you,  my  girl, "  she  said.  "Or  if  it  doesn't,  I've  another 
sort  of  remedy  yet  to  try.  Now,  you  start  on  that  letter, 
do  you  hear?  It'll  be  a  bit  shaky,  but  none  the  worse  for 
that.  Write  and  tell  him  you've  changed  your  mind !  Beg 
him  humble-like  to  take  you  back!" 

But  Dinah  only  bowed  her  head  upon  her  hands  and 
sat  crushed. 

Mrs.  Bathurst  gave  her  a  few  seconds  to  recover  her 
balance.  Then  again  mercilessly  she  shook  her  by  the 
shoulder. 

"Come,  Dinah!  I'm  not  going  to  be  defied.  Are  you 
going  to  write  that  letter  at  once  ?  Or  must  I  take  stronger 
measures?" 

And  then  a  species  of  wild  courage  entered  into  Dinah. 
She  turned  at  last  at  bay.  "I  will  not  write  it!  I  would 
sooner  die!  If — if  this  thing  is  true,  it  would  be  far  easier 
to  die!  I  couldn't  marry  any  man  now  who  had  any  pride 
of  birth." 

She  was  terribly  white,  but  she  faced  her  tormentor 
unflinching,  her  eyes  like  stars.  And  it  came  to  Mrs. 
Bathurst  with  unpleasant  force  that  she  had  taken  a  false 


414  Greatheart 

step  which  it  was  impossible  to  retrace.  It  was  then  that 
the  evil  spirit  that  had  been  goading  her  entered  in  and  took 
full  possession. 

She  gripped  Dinah's  shoulder  till  she  winced  with  pain. 
"Mother,  you — you  are  hurting  me!" 

"Yes,  and  I  will  hurt  you,"  she  made  answer.  "I'll 
hurt  you  as  I've  never  hurt  you  yet  if  you  dare  to  disobey 
me!  I'll  crush  you  to  the  earth  before  I  will  endure  that 
from  you.  Now!  For  the  last  time!  Will  you  write 
that  letter?  Think  well  before  you  refuse  again!" 

She  towered  over  Dinah  with  awful  determination, 
wrought  up  to  a  pitch  of  fury  by  her  resistance  that  almost 
bordered  upon  insanity. 

Dinah's  boldness  waned  swiftly  before  the  iron  force 
that  countered  it.  But  her  resolution  remained  unshaken, 
a  resolution  from  which  no  power  on  earth  could  move  her. 

"I  can't  do  it — possibly,"  she  said. 

"You  mean  you  won't?"  said  Mrs.  Bathurst. 

Dinah  nodded,  and  gripped  the  table  hard  to  endure 
what  should  follow. 

"You — mean — you  won't?"  Mrs.  Bathurst  said  again 
very  slowly. 

"I  will  not."  The  white  lips  spoke  the  words,  and 
closed  upon  Intern.  Dinah'  sat  rigid  with  apprehension. 

Mrs.  Bathurst  took  her  hand  from  her  shoulder  and 
turned  from  her.  The  candle  that  had  been  burning  all  the 
evening  was  low  in  its  socket.  She  lifted  it  out  and  went 
to  the  fireplace.  There  were  some  shavings  in  the  grate. 
She  pushed  the  lighted  candle  end  in  among  them;  then, 
as  the  fire  roared  up  the  chimney,  she  turned. 

An  open  trunk  was  close  to  her  with  the  dainty  pale 
green  dress  that  Dinah  had  worn  the  previous  evening 
lying  on  the  top.  She  took  it  up,  and  bundled  the  soft 
folds  together.  Then  violently  she  flung  it  on  to  the 
flames. 


The  Furnace  4T5 

Dinah  gave  a  cry  of  dismay,  and  started  to  her  feet. 
"Mother!  What  are  you  doing?  Mother!  Are  you 
mad?" 

Mrs.  Bathurst  looked  at  her  with  eyes  of  blazing  vindic- 
tiveness.  "  If  you  are  not  going  to  be  married,  you  won't 
need  a  trousseau,"  she  said  grimly.  "These  things  are 
quite  unfit  for  a  girl  in  your  station.  For  Lady  Studley  they 
would  of  course  have  been  suitable,  but  not  for  such  as  you.  " 

She  turned  back  to  the  open  trunk  with  the  words,  and 
began  to  sweep  together  every  article  of  clothing  it  con- 
tained. Dinah  watched  her  in  horror-stricken  silence. 
She  remembered  with  odd  irrelevance  how  once  in  her 
childhood  for  some  petty  offence  her  mother  had  burnt  a 
favourite  doll,  and  then  had  whipped  her  soundly  for  crying 
over  her  loss. 

vShe  did  not  cry  now.  Her  tears  seemed  frozen.  She  did 
not  feel  as  if  she  could  ever  cry  again.  The  cold  that 
enwrapped  her  was  beginning  to  reach  her  heart.  She 
thought  she  was  getting  past  all  feeling. 

So  in  mute  despair  she  watched  the  sacrifice  of  all  that 
Isabel's  loving  care  had  provided.  So  much  thought  had 
been  spent  upon  the  delicate  finery.  They  had  discussed 
and  settled  each  dainty  garment  together.  She  had 
revelled  in  the  thought  of  all  the  good  things  which  she  was 
to  wear — she  who  had  never  worn  anything  that  was  beauti- 
ful before.  And  now — and  now — they  shrivelled  in  the 
roaring  flame  and  dropped  into  grey  ash  in  the  fender. 

It  was  over  at  last.  Only  the  wedding-dress  remained. 
But  as  Mrs.  Bathurst  laid  merciless  hands  upon  this  also, 
Dinah  uttered  a  bitter  cry. 

"Oh,  not  that !     Not  that ! ' ' 

Her  mother  paused.  "Will  you  wear  it  to-morrow  if  Sir 
Eustace  will  have  you?"  she  demanded. 

"No!  Oh  no!"  Dinah  tottered  back  against  her  bed 
and  covered  her  eyes. 


4l6  Greatheart 

She  could  not  watch  the  destruction  of  that  fairy  thing. 
But  it  went  so  quickly,  so  quickly.  When  she  looked 
up  again,  it  had  crumbled  away  like  the  rest,  and  the 
shimmering  veil  with  it.  Nothing,  nothing  was  left  of  all 
the  splendour  that  had  been  hers. 

She  sank  down  on  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Surely  her  mother 
would  be  satisfied  now!  Surely  her  lust  for  vengeance 
could  devise  no  further  punishment ! 

She  was  nearing  the  end  of  her  strength,  and  she  was 
beginning  to  know  it.  The  room  swam  before  her  dizzy 
sight.  Her  mother's  figure  loomed  gigantic,  scarcely 
human. 

She  saw  her  poke  down  the  last  of  the  cinders  and  turn 
to  the  door.  There  was  a  pungent  smell  of  smoke  in  the 
room.  She  wondered  if  she  would  ever  be  able  to  cross 
that  swaying,  seething  floor  to  open  the  window.  She 
closed  her  eyes  and  listened  with  straining  ears  for  the 
closing  of  the  door. 

It  came,  and  following  it,  a  sharp  click  as  of  the  turning 
of  a  key.  She  looked  up  at  the  sound,  and  saw  her  mother 
come  back  to  her.  She  was  carrying  something  in  one 
hand,  something  that  dangled  and  cast  a  snake-like  shadow. 

She  came  to  the  cowering  girl  and  caught  her  by  the 
arm.  "Now  get  up!"  she  ordered  brutally.  "And  take 
the  rest  of  your  punishment!" 

Truly  Dinah  drank  the  cup  of  bitterness  to  the  dregs 
that  night.  Mentally  she  had  suffered  till  she  had  almost 
ceased  to  feel.  But  physically  her  powers  of  endurance 
had  not  been  so  sorely  tried.  But  her  nerves  were  strung  to 
a  pitch  when  even  a  sudden  movement  made  her  tingle,  and 
upon  this  highly-tempered  sensitiveness  the  punishment 
now  inflicted  upon  her  was  acute  agony.  It  broke  her 
even  more  completely  than  it  had  broken  her  in  childhood. 
Before  many  seconds  had  passed  the  last  shred  of  her  self- 
control  was  gone. 


The  Furnace  417 

Guy  Bathurst,  lying  comfortably  in  bed,  was  aroused 
from  his  first  slumber  by  a  succession  of  sharp  sounds  like 
the  lashing  of  a  loosened  creeper  against  the  window,  but 
each  sound  was  followed  by  an  anguished  cry  that  sank 
and  rose  again  like  the  wailing  of  a  hurt  child. 

He  turned  his  head  and  listened.  "By  Jove!  That's 
too  bad  of  Lydia, "  he  said.  "I  suppose  she  won't  be 
satisfied  till  she's  had  her  turn,  but  I  shall  have  to  interfere 
if  it  goes  on. " 

It  did  not  go  on  for  long;  quite  suddenly  the  cries  ceased. 
The  other  sounds  continued  for  a  few  seconds  more,  then 
ceased  also,  and  he  turned  upon  his  pillow  with  a  sigh  of 
relief. 

A  minute  later  he  was  roused  again  by  the  somewhat 
abrupt  entrance  of  his  wife.  She  did  not  speak  to  him, 
but  stood  by  the  door  and  rummaged  in  the  pockets  of  his 
shooting-coat  that  hung  there. 

Bathurst  endured  in  silence  for  a  few  moments;  then, 
"Oh,  what  on  earth  are  you  looking  for?"  he  said  with 
sleepy  irritation.  "  I  wish  you'd  go. " 

"I  want  your  brandy  flask,"  she  said,  and  her  words 
came  clipped  and  sharp.  "Where  is  it?" 

"On  the  dressing-table,"  he  said.  "What  have  you 
been  doing  to  the  child?" 

"I've  given  her  as  much  as  she  can  stand,"  his  wife 
retorted  grimly.  "But  you  leave  her  to  me!  I'll  manage 
her." 

She  departed  with  a  haste  that  seemed  to  denote  a  certain 
anxiety  notwithstanding  her  words. 

She  left  the  door  ajar,  and  the  man  turned  again  on  his 
pillow  and  listened  uneasily.  He  was  afraid  Lydia  had 
gone  too  far. 

For  a  space  he  heard  nothing.     Then  came  the  splashing^ 
of  water,  and  again  that  piteous,  gasping  cry.     He  caught 
the  sound  of  his  wife's  voice,  but  what  she  said  he  could 
27 


4i  8  Greatheart 

not  hear.  Then  there  were  movements,  and  Dinah  spoke 
in  broken  supplication  that  went  into  hysterical  sobbing. 
Finally  he  heard  his  wife  come  out  of  the  room  and  close 
the  door  behind  her. 

She  came  back  again  with  the  brandy  flask.  ' '  She's  had  a 
lesson,"  she  observed,  "that  I  rather  fancy  she'll  never 
forget  as  long  as  she  lives. " 

"Then  I  hope  you're  satisfied,"  said  Bathurst,  and 
turned  upon  his  side. 

Yes,  Dinah  had  had  a  lesson.  She  had  passed  through  a 
sevenfold  furnace  that  had  melted  the  frozen  fountain  of 
her  tears  till  it  seemed  that  their  flow  would  never  be 
stayed  again.  She  wept  for  hours,  wept  till  she  was  sick 
and  blind  with  weeping,  and  still  she  wept  on.  And  bitter 
shame  and  humiliation  watched  beside  her  all  through  that 
dreadful  night,  giving  her  no  rest. 

For  she  had  gone  through  this  fiery  torture,  this  cruel 
chastisement  of  mind  and  body,  all  for  what  ?  For  love  of  a 
man  who  felt  nought  but  kindness  for  her, — for  the  dear 
memory  of  a  golden  vision  that  would  never  be  hers  again. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   COMING   OF   GREATHEART 

IT  was  soon  after  nine  on  the  following  morning  that 
Scott  presented  himself  on  horseback  at  the  gate  of 
Dinah's  home.  It  had  been  his  intention  to  tie  up  his 
animal  and  enter,  but  he  was  met  in  the  entrance  by  Billy 
coming  out  on  a  bicycle,  and  the  boy  at  once  frustrated  his 
intention. 

"Good  morning,  sir!  Pleased  to  see  you,  but  it's  no 
good  your  coming  in.  The  pater's  still  in  bed,  and  the 
mater's  doing  the  house-work. " 

"And  Dinah?"  said  Scott.  The  question  leapt  from 
him  almost  involuntarily.  He  had  not  meant  to  display 
any  eagerness,  and  he  sought  to  cover  it  by  his  next  words 
which  were  uttered  with  his  usual  careful  deliberation. 
"It's  Dinah  I  have  come  to  see.  I  have  a  message  for  her 
from  my  sister. " 

Billy's  freckled  face  crumpled  into  troubled  lines. 
"Dinah  has  cleared  out,"  he  said  briefly.  "I'm  just  off 
to  the  station  to  try  and  get  news  of  her. " 

"What?"  Scott  said,  startled. 

The  boy  looked  at  him,  his  green  eyes  shrewdly  con- 
fiding. "There's  been  the  devil  of  a  row, "  he  said.  "The 
mater  is  furious  with  her.  She  gave  her  a  fearful  licking 
last  night  to  judge  by  the  sounds.  Dinah  was  squealing  like 
a  rat.  Of  course  girls  always  do  squeal  when  they're  hurt, 
but  I  fancy  the  mater  must  have  hit  a  bit  harder  than 

419 


420  Greatheart 

usual.  And  she's  burnt  the  whole  of  the  trousseau  too. 
Dinah  was  so  mighty  proud  of  all  her  fine  things.  She'd 
feel  that,  you  know,  pretty  badly." 

"Damnation!"  Scott  said,  and  for  the  second  time  he 
spoke  without  his  own  volition.  He  looked  at  Billy  with 
that  intense  hot  light  in  his  eyes  that  had  in  it  the  white- 
ness of  molten  metal.  "Do  you  mean  that?"  he  said. 
"Do  you  actually  mean  that  your  mother  flogged  her — 
flogged  Dinah?" 

Billy  nodded.  "It's  just  her  way,"  he  explained  half- 
apologetically.  "The  mater  is  like  that.  She's  rough  and 
ready.  She's  always  done  it  to  Dinah,  had  a  sort  of  down 
on  her  for  some  reason.  I  guessed  she  meant  business  last 
night  when  I  saw  the  dog-whip  had  gone  out  of  the  hall. 
I  wished  afterwards  I'd  thought  to  hide  it,  for  it's  rather  a 
beastly  implement.  But  the  mater's  a  difficult  woman  to 
baulk.  And  when  she's  in  that  mood,  it's  almost  better  to 
let  her  have  her  own  way.  She's  sure  to  get  it  sooner 
or  later,  and  a  thing  of  that  sort  doesn't  improve  with 
keeping." 

So  spoke  Billy  with  the  philosophy  of  middle-aged  youth, 
while  the  man  beside  him  sat  with  clenched  hands  and 
faced  the  hateful  vision  of  Dinah,  the  fairy-footed  and  gay 
of  heart,  writhing  under  that  horrible  and  humiliating 
punishment. 

He  spoke  at  length,  and  some  electricity  within  him  made 
the  animal  under  him  fidget  and  prance,  for  he  stirred 
neither  hand  nor  foot.  "And  you  tell  me  Dinah  has  run 
away?" 

"Yes,  cleared  out,"  said  Billy  tersely.  "It  was  an 
idiotic  thing  to  do,  for  the  mater  is  downright  savage  this 
morning,  and  she'll  only  give  her  another  hiding  for  her 
pains.  She  stayed  away  all  day  once  before,  years  ago 
when  she  was  a  little  kid,  and,  my  eye,  didn't  she  catch  it 
when  she  came  back !  She  never  did  it  again — till  now. " 


The  Coming  of  Greatheart  421 

"And  you  are  going  to  the  station  to  look  for  her?" 
Scott's  voice  was  dead  level.  He  calmed  the  restive 
horse  with  a  firm  hand. 

"Yes;  just  to  find  out  if  she's  gone  by  train.  I  don't 
believe  she  has,  you  know.  She's  nowhere  to  go  to.  I 
expect  she's  hiding  up  in  the  woods  somewhere.  I  shall 
scour  the  country  afterwards ;  for  the  longer  she  stays  away 
the  worse  it'll  be  for  her.  I'm  sure  of  that,"  said  Billy 
uneasily.  "When  the  mater  lays  hands  on  her  again, 
she'll  simply  flay  her." 

"She  will  not  do  anything  of  the  sort,"  said  Scott, 
and  turned  his  horse's  head  with  resolution.  "Come 
along  and  find  her  first!  I  will  deal  with  your  mother 
afterwards." 

Billy  mounted  his  bicycle  and  accompanied  him.  Though 
he  did  not  see  how  Scott  was  to  prevent  any  further  ven- 
geance on  his  mother's  part,  it  was  a  considerable  relief 
to  feel  that  he  had  enlisted  a  champion  on  his  sister's  behalf. 
For  he  was  genuinely  troubled  about  her,  although  the 
cruel  discipline  to  which  she  had  been  subjected  all  her 
life  had  so  accustomed  him  to  seeing  her  in  trouble  that  it 
affected  him  less  than  if  it  had  been  a  matter  of  less  fre- 
quent occurrence. 

Scott's  reception  of  his  information  had  somewhat  awed 
him.  Like  Dinah,  he  had  long  ceased  to  look  upon  this  man 
as  insignificant.  He  rode  beside  him  in  respectful  silence. 

The  country  lane  they  followed  crossed  the  railway  by  a 
bridge  ere  it  ran  into  the  station  road.  There  was  a  steep 
embankment  on  each  side  of  the  line  surmounted  by  woods, 
and  as  they  reached  the  bridge  Billy  dismounted  to  gaze 
searchingly  into  the  trees. 

" She  might  be  anywhere "  he  said.  "This  is  a  favourite 
place  of  hers  because  the  wind-flowers  grow  here.  Some- 
how I've  got  a  sort  of  feeling — "  He  stopped  short. 
"Why,  there  she  is!"  he  exclaimed. 


422  Greatheart 

Scott  looked  sharply  in  the  same  direction.  Had  he 
been  alone,  he  would  not  have  perceived  her,  for  she  was 
crouched  low  against  a  thicket  of  brambles  and  stunted 
trees  midway  down  the  embankment.  She  was  clad  in  an 
old  brown  mackintosh  that  so  toned  with  her  surroundings 
as  to  render  her  almost  invisible.  Her  chin  was  resting 
on  her  knees,  and  her  face  was  turned  from  them.  She 
seemed  to  be  gazing  up  the  line. 

As  they  watched  her,  a  signal  near  the  bridge  went  down 
with  a  thud,  and  it  seemed  to  Scott  that  the  little  huddled 
figure  started  and  stiffened  like  a  frightened  doe.  But 
she  did  not  change  her  position,  and  she  continued  to 
gaze  up  the  long  stretch  of  line  as  though  waiting  for 
something. 

"What  on  earth  is  she  doing? "  whispered  Billy.  "There 
are  no  wind-flowers  there." 

Scott  slipped  quietly  to  the  ground.  "You  wait  here!" 
he  said.  "Hold  my  animal,  will  you?" 

He  left  the  bridge,  retracing  his  steps,  and  climbed  a 
railing  that  fenced  the  wood.  In  a  moment  he  disappeared 
among  the  trees,  and  Billy  was  left  to  watch  and  listen  in 
unaccountable  suspense. 

The  morning  was  dull,  and  a  desolate  wind  moaned 
among  the  bare  tree-tops.  He  shivered  a  little.  There 
was  something  uncanny  in  the  atmosphere,  something 
that  was  evil.  He  kept  his  eyes  upon  Dinah,  but  she  was  a 
considerable  distance  away,  and  he  could  not  see  that 
she  stirred  so  much  as  a  finger.  He  wondered  how  long 
it  would  take  Scott  to  reach  her,  and  began  to  wish  ardently 
that  he  had  been  allowed  to  go  instead.  The  man  was 
lame  and  he  was  sure  that  he  could  have  covered  the 
distance  in  half  the  time. 

And  then  while  he  waited  and  watched,  suddenly  there 
came  a  distant  drumming  that  told  of  an  approaching  train. 

"The  Northern  express!"  he  said  aloud. 


The  Coming  of  Greatheart  423 

Many  a  time  had  he  stood  on  the  bridge  to  see  it  flash 
and  thunder  below  him.  The  sound  of  its  approach  had 
always  filled  him  with  a  kind  of  ecstasy  before,  but  now — 
to-day — it  sent  another  feeling  through  him, — a  sudden, 
wild  dart  of  unutterable  dread. 

"What  rot ! "  he  told  himself,  with  an  angry  shake.  "Oh, 
what  rot!" 

But  the  dread  remained  coiled  like  a  snake  about  his 
heart. 

The  animal  he  held  became  restless,  and  he  backed  it  off 
the  bridge,  but  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  go  out  of  sight 
of  that  small,  tragic  figure  in  the  old  mackintosh  that  sat 
so  still,  so  still,  there  upon  the  grassy  slope.  He  watched  it 
with  a  terrible  fascination.  Would  Scott  never  make  his 
appearance? 

A  white  tuft  of  smoke  showed  against  the  grey  of  the 
sky.  The  throbbing  of  the  engine  grew  louder,  grew 
insistent.  A  couple  of  seconds  more  and  it  was  within  sight, 
still  far  away  but  rapidly  drawing  near.  Where  on  earth 
was  Scott?  Did  he  realize  the  danger?  Ought  he  to 
shout?  But  something  seemed  to  grip  his  throat,  holding 
him  silent.  He  was  powerless  to  do  anything  but  watch. 

Nearer  came  the  train  and  nearer.  Billy's  eyes  were 
starting  out  of  his  head.  He  had  never  been  so  scared  in 
all  his  life  before.  There  was  something  fateful  in  the  pose 
of  that  waiting  figure. 

The  rush  of  the  oncoming  express  dinned  in  his  ears. 
It  was  close  now,  and  suddenly — suddenly  as  a  darting 
bird — Dinah  was  on  her  feet.  Billy  found  his  voice  in  a 
hoarse,  croaking  cry,  but  almost  ere  it  left  his  lips  he  saw 
Scott  leap  into  view  and  run  down  the  bank. 

By  what  force  of  will  he  made  his  presence  known  Billy 
never  afterwards  could  conjecture.  No  sound  could  have 
been  audible  above  the  clamour  of  the  train.  Yet  by  some 
means — some  electric  battery  of  the  mind — he  made  the 


424  Greatheart 

girl  below  aware  of  him.  On  the  very  verge  of  the  pre- 
cipice she  stopped,  stood  poised  for  a  moment,  then  turned 
herself  back  and  saw  him.  .  .  . 

The  train  thundered  by,  shaking  the  ground  beneath 
their  feet,  and  rushed  under  the  bridge.  The  whole  embank- 
ment was  blotted  out  in  white  smoke,  and  Billy  reeled  back 
against  the  horse  he  held. 

"By  Jove!"  he  whispered  shakily.  "By — Jove!  What 
a  ghastly  fright!" 

He  wiped  his  forehead  with  a  trembling  hand,  and  led 
the  animal  away  from  the  bridge.  Somehow  he  was  feel- 
ing very  sick — too  sick  to  look  any  longer,  albeit  the  danger 
was  past. 

•  The  smoke  cleared  from  the  embankment,  and  two 
figures  were  left  facing  one  another  on  the  grassy  slope. 
Neither  of  them  spoke  a  word.  It  was  as  if  they  were  wait- 
ing for  some  sign.  Scott  was  panting,  but  Dinah  did  not 
seem  to  be  breathing  at  all.  She  stood  there  tense  and 
silent,  terribly  white,  her  eyes  burning  like  stars. 

The  last  sound  of  the  train  died  away  in  the  distance,  and 
then,  such  was  their  utter  stillness,  from  the  thorn-bush 
close  to  them  a  thrush  suddenly  thrilled  into  song.  The 
soft  notes  fell  balmlike  into  that  awful  silence  and  turned 
it  into  sweetest  music. 

Scott  moved  at  last,  and  at  once  the  bird  ceased.  It  was 
as  if  an  angel  had  flown  across  the  heaven  with  a  silver  flute 
of  purest  melody  and  passed  again  into  the  unknown. 

He  came  to  Dinah.  "My  dear,"  he  said,  and  his  voice 
was  slightly  shaky,  "you  shouldn't  be  here." 

She  stood  before  him,  pillar-like,  her  two  hands  clenched 
against  her  sides.  Her  lips  were  quite  livid.  They  moved 
soundlessly  for  several  seconds  before  she  spoke.  "I — was 
waiting — for  the  express." 

Her  voice  was  flat  and  emotionless.  It  sounded  almost  as 
if  she  were  talking  in  her  sleep.  And  strangely  it  was 


The  Coming  of  Greatheart  425 

that  that  shocked  Scott  even  more  than  her  appearance. 
Dinah's  voice  had  always  held  countless  inflections,  little 
notes  gay  or  sad  like  the  trill  of  a  robin.  This  was  the 
voice  of  a  woman  in  whom  the  very  last  spark  of  hope  was 
quenched. 

It  pierced  him  with  an  intolerable  pain.  "Dinah — 
Dinah!"  he  said.  "For  God's  sake,  child,  you  don't  mean 
—that!" 

Her  white,  pinched  face  twisted  in  a  dreadful  smile. 
"Why  not?"  she  said.  "There  was  no  other  way."  And 
then  a  sudden  quiver  as  of  returning  life  went  through  her. 
"Why  did  you  stop  me?"  she  said.  "If  you  hadn't,  it 
would  have  been — all  over  by  now." 

He  put  out  a  quick  hand.  "Don't  say  it, — in  heaven's 
name!  You  are  not  yourself .  Come — come  into  the  wood, 
and  we  will  talk!" 

She  did  not  take  his  hand.  "Can't  we  talk  here?"  she 
said. 

He  composed  himself  with  an  effort.  "  No,  certainly  not. 
Come  into  the  wood ! ' ' 

He  spoke  with  quiet  insistence.  She  gave  him  an 
inscrutable  look. 

"You  think  you  are  going  to  help  me, — Mr.  Greatheart, " 
she  said,  "but  I  am  past  help.  Nothing  you  can  do  will 
make  any  difference  to  me  now. " 

"Come  with  me  nevertheless!"  he  said. 

He  laid  a  gentle  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  and  she  winced 
with  a  sharpness  that  tore  his  heart.  But  in  a  moment  she 
turned  beside  him  and  began  the  ascent,  slowly,  labouringly, 
as  if  every  step  gave  her  pain.  He  moved  beside  her,  sup- 
porting her  elbow  when  she  faltered,  steadily  helping  her  on. 

They  entered  the  wood,  and  the  desolate  sighing  of  the 
wind  encompassed  them.  Dinah  looked  at  her  companion 
with  the  first  sign  of  feeling  she  had  shown. 

"I  must  sit  down,"  she  said. 


426  Greatheart 

"There  is  a  fallen  tree  over  there,"  he  said,  and  guided 
her  towards  it. 

She  leaned  upon  him,  very  near  to  collapse.  He  spread 
his  coat  upon  the  tree  and  helped  her  down. 

" Now  how  long  is  it  since  you  had  anything  to  eat?"  he 
said. 

She  shook  her  head  slightly.  "I  don't  remember.  But 
it  doesn't  matter.  I'm  not  hungry. " 

He  took  one  of  her  icy  hands  and  began  to  rub  it.  "Poor 
child!"  he  said.  "You  ought  to  be  given  some  hot  bread 
and  milk  and  tucked  up  in  bed  with  hot  bottles." 

Her  face  began  to  work.  "That,"  she  said,  "is  the  last 
thing  that  will  happen  to  me." 

"Haven't  you  been  to  bed  at  all?"  he  questioned. 

Her  throat  was  moving  spasmodically;  she  bowed  her 
head  to  hide  her  face  from  him.  "Yes,"  she  said  in  a 
whisper.  "My  mother — my  mother  put  me  there."  And 
then  as  if  the  words  burst  from  her  against  her  will,  "She 
thrashed  me  first  with  a  dog-whip ;  but  dogs  have  got  hair 
to  protect  them,  and  I — had  nothing.  She  only  stopped 
because — I  fainted.  She  hasn't  finished  with  me  now. 
When  I  go  back — when  I  go  back — "  She  broke  off. 
"But  I'm  not  going,"  she  said,  and  her  voice  was  flat  and 
hard  again.  "Even  you  can't  make  me  do  that.  There'll 
be  another  express  this  afternoon." 

Scott  knelt  down  beside  her,  and  took  her  bowed  head 
on  to  his  shoulder.  "Listen  to  me,  Dinah!"  he  said.  "I 
am  going  to  help  you,  and  you  mustn't  try  to  prevent  me. 
If  you  had  only  allowed  me,  I  would  have  gone  home 
again  with  you  yesterday,  and  this  might  have  been  avoided. 
My  dear,  don't  draw  yourself  away  from  me!  Don't  you 
know  I  am  a  friend  you  can  trust?" 

The  pitiful  tenderness  of  his  voice  reached  her,  over- 
whelming her  first  instinctive  effort  to  draw  back.  She 
leaned  against  him  with  painful,  long-drawn  sobs. 


The  Coming  of  Greatheart  427 

He  held  her  closely  to  him  with  all  a  woman's  under- 
standing. "Oh,  don't  cry  any  more,  child!"  he  said. 
"You're  worn  out  with  crying. " 

"I  feel — so  bad — so  bad!"  sobbed  Dinah. 

"Yes,  yes.  I  know.  Of  course  you  do.  But  it's  over, 
it's  over.  No  one  shall  hurt  you  any  more. " 

"You  don't — understand,"  breathed  Dinah.  "It  never 
will  be  over — while  I  live.  I'm  hurt  inside — inside." 

"I  know,"  he  said  again.  "But  it  will  get  better  pre- 
sently. Isabel  and  I  are  going  to  take  you  away  from  it 
all." 

"Oh  no!"  she  said  quickly.  "No— no— no!"  She 
lifted  her  head  from  his  shoulder  and  turned  her  poor, 
stained  face  upwards.  "I  couldn't  do  that!"  she  said. 
"I  couldn't!  I  couldn't!" 

"Wait!"  he  said  gently.  "Let  me  do  what  I  can  to  help 
you  now — before  we  talk  of  that !  Will  you  sit  here  quietly 
for  a  little,  while  I  go  and  get  you  some  milk  from  that 
farm  down  the  road?" 

"I  don't  want  it,"  she  said. 

"But  I  want  you  to  have  it,"  he  made  grave  reply. 
"  You  will  stay  here ?  Promise  me!" 

"Very  well,"  she  assented  miserably. 

He  got  up.  "I  shan't  be  gone  long.  Sit  quite  still  till 
I  come  back!" 

He  touched  her  dark  head  comfortingly  and  turned  away. 

When  he  had  gone  a  little  distance  he  looked  back,  and 
saw  that  she  was  crouched  upon  the  ground  again  and 
crying  with  bitter,  straining  sobs  that  convulsed  her  as 
though  they  would  rend  her  from  head  to  foot.  With  tight- 
ened lips  he  hastened  on  his  way. 

She  had  suffered  a  cruel  punishment  it  was  evident,  and 
she  was  utterly  worn  out  in  body  and  spirit.  But  was  it 
only  the  ordeal  of  yesterday  and  the  physical  penalty 
that  she  had  been  made  to  pay  that  had  broken  her  thus? 


428  Greatheart 

He  could  not  tell,  but  his  heart  bled  for  her  misery  and 
desolation. 

' '  Who  is  the  other  fellow  ? "  he  asked  himself.  ' '  I  wonder 
if  Billy  knows. " 

He  found  Billy  awaiting  him  in  the  road,  anxious  and 
somewhat  reproachful.  "You've  been  such  a  deuce  of  a 
time,"  he  said.  "Is  she  all  right?" 

"She  is  very  upset,"  he  made  answer.  "And  she  is 
faint  too  for  want  of  food." 

"That's  not  surprising,"  commented  Billy.  "She  can't 
have  had  anything  since  lunch  yesterday.  What  shall  I 
do?  Run  home  and  get  something?  The  mater  can't 
want  her  to  starve. " 

"No."  Scott's  voice  rang  on  a  hard  note.  "She  pro- 
bably doesn't.  But  you  needn't  go  home  for  it.  Run  back 
to  that  farm  we  passed  just  now,  and  see  if  you  can  get 
some  hot  milk!  Be  quick  like  a  good  chap!  Here's  the 
money!  I'll  wait  here. " 

Billy  seized  his  bicycle  and  departed  on  his  errand. 

Scott  began  to  walk  his  horse  up  and  down,  for  inactivity 
was  unbearable.  Every  moment  he  spent  away  from 
poor,  broken  Dinah  was  torturing.  Those  dreadful,  hope- 
less tears  of  hers  filled  him  with  foreboding.  He  yearned 
to  return. 

Billy's  absence  lasted  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  an  hour, 
and  he  was  beginning  to  get  desperate  over  the  delay  when 
at  last  the  boy  returned  carrying  a  can  of  milk  and  a  mug. 

"  I  had  rather  a  bother  to  get  it,"  he  explained.  "  People 
are  so  mighty  difficult  to  stir,  and  I  didn't  want  to  tell  'em 
too  much.  I've 'promised  to  take  these  things  back  again. 
I  say,  can't  I  come  along  with  you  now?" 

"I'd  rather  you  didn't,"  Scott  said.  "I  can  manage 
best  alone.  Besides,  I'm  going  to  ask  you  to  do  something 
more." 

"Anything!"  said  Billy  readily. 


The  Coming  of  Greatheart  429 

"Thanks.  Well,  will  you  ride  this  animal  into  Great 
Mallowes,  hire  a  closed  car,  and  send  it  to  the  bridge  here  to 
pick  me  up?  Then  take  him  back  to  the  Court,  and  if  any- 
one asks  any  questions,  say  I've  met  a  friend  and  I'm  com- 
ing back  on  foot,  but  I  may  not  be  in  to  luncheon.  Yes, 
that'll  do,  I  think.  I'll  see  about  returning  these  things. 
Much  obliged,  Billy.  Good-bye!" 

Billy  looked  somewhat  disappointed  at  this  dismissal,  but 
the  prospect  of  a  ride  was  dear  to  his  boyish  heart,  and  in  a 
moment  he  nodded  cheerily.  "All  right,  I'll  do  that.  I'll 
hide  my  bicycle  in  the  wood  and  fetch  it  afterwards.  But 
where  are  you  going  to  take  her  to  ? " 

Scott  smiled  also  faintly  and  enigmatically.  "Leave  that 
to  me,  my  good  fellow!  I  shan't  run  away  with  her. " 

"But  I  shall  see  her  again  some  time?"  urged  Billy,  as 
he  dumped  his  long-suffering  machine  over  the  railing  and 
propped  it  out  of  sight  behind  the  hedge. 

"No  doubt  you  will."  Scott's  tone  was  kindly  and 
reassuring.  "But  I  think  I  can  help  her  better  just  now 
than  you  can,  so  I'll  be  getting  back  to  her.  Good-bye, 
boy !  And  thanks  again ! ' ' 

"So  long!"  said  Billy,  vaulting  back  and  thrusting  his 
foot  into  the  stirrup.  "You  might  let  me  hear  how  you 
get  on." 

"I  will,"  promised  Scott. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE     VALLEY    OF    HUMILIATION 

WHEN  Scott  reached  the  fallen  tree  again,  Dinah's 
fit  of  weeping  was  over.     She  was  lying  exhausted 
and  barely  conscious  against  his  coat. 

She  opened  her  eyes  as  he  knelt  down  beside  her.  "You 
are — good,"  she  whispered  faintly. 

He  poured  out  some  milk  and  held  it  to  her.  "Try  to 
drink  some!"  he  said  gently. 

She  put  out  a  trembling  hand. 

"No;  let  me!"  he  said. 

She  submitted  in  silence,  and  he  lifted  the  glass  to  her 
lips  and  held  it  very  steadily  while  slowly  she  drank. 

Her  eyes  were  swollen  and  burning  with  the  shedding  of 
many  scalding  tears.  Now  and  then  a  sharp  sob  rose  in  her 
throat  so  that  she  could  not  swallow. 

"Take  your  time!"  he  said.     "Don't  hurry  it!" 

But  ere  she  finished,  the  tears  .were  running  down  her 
face  again.  He  set  down  the  glass,  and  with  his  own 
handkerchief  he  wiped  them  away.  Then  he  sat  upon  the 
low  tree-trunk,  and  drew  her  to  lean  against  him. 

"When  you're  feeling  better,  we'll  have  a  talk,"  he  said. 

She  hid  her  face  with  a  piteous  gesture  against  his  knee. 
"I  don't  see — the  good  of  talking,"  she  said,  in  muffled 
accents.  "It  can't  make  things — any  better." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that, "  he  said.  "Anyhow  we  can't 
leave  things  as  they  are.  You  will  admit  that." 

430 


The  Valley  of  Humiliation  431 

Dinah  was  silent. 

He  went  on  with  the  utmost  gentleness.  "I  want  to 
get  you  away  from  here.  Isabel  is  going  down  to  Heath-on- 
Sea  and  she  wants  you  to  come  too.  It's  a  tiny  place. 
We  have  a  cottage  there  with  the  most  wonderful  garden 
for  flowers  you  ever  saw.  It  isn't  more  than  thirty  yards 
square,  and  there  is  a  cliff  path  down  to  the  beach.  Isabel 
loves  the  place.  The  yacht  is  there  too,  and  we  go  for 
cruises  on  calm  days.  I. am  hoping  Isabel  may  pick  up  a 
little  there,  and  she  is  always  more  herself  when  you  are 
with  her.  You  won't  disappoint  her,  will  you? " 

A  great  shiver  went  through  Dinah.  "I  can't  come," 
she  said,  almost  under  her  breath.  "  It  just — isn't  possible." 

"What  is  there  to  prevent?"  he  asked. 

She  moved  a  little,  and  lifted  her  head  from  its  resting- 
place.  "Ever  so  many  things,"  she  said. 

"You  are  thinking  of  Eustace?"  he  questioned.  "He 
has  gone  already — gone  to  town.  He  will  probably  go 
abroad;  but  in  any  case  he  will  not  get  in  your  way. " 

"I  wasn't  thinking  of  him,"  Dinah  said. 

"Then  of  what?"  he  questioned.  "Your  mother?  I 
will  see  her,  and  make  that  all  right." 

She  started  and  lifted  her  face.  "Oh  no!  Oh  no! 
You  must  never  dream  of  doing  that !"  she  declared,  with 
sudden  fevered  urgency.  "I  couldn't  bear  you  to  see  her. 
You  mustn't  think  of  it,  indeed — indeed!  Why  I  would 
even — even  sooner  go  back  myself." 

"Then  I  must  write  to  her,"  he  said,  gently  ceding  the 
point.  "  It  is  not  essential  that  I  should  see  her.  Possibly 
even,  a  letter  would  be  preferable." 

Dinah's  face  had  flushed  fiery  red.  She  did  not  meet 
his  eyes.  "  I  don't  see  why  you  should  have  anything  to  do 
with  her, "  she  said.  "  You  would  never  get  her  to  consent." 

"Then  I  propose  that  we  act  first, "  said  Scott.  " Isabel 
is  leaving  to-day.  You  can  join  her  at  Great  Mallowes 


432  Greatheart 

and  go  on  together.  I  shall  follow  in  a  couple  of  days. 
There  are  several  matters  to  be  attended  to  first.  But 
Isabel  and  Biddy  will  take  care  of  you.  Come,  my  dear, 
you  won't  dislike  that  so  very  badly!" 

' '  Dislike  it ! "  Dinah  caught  back  another  sob .  "I  should 
love  it  above  all  things  if  it  were  possible.  But  it  isn't — 
it  isn't." 

"  Why  not? "  he  questioned.  "Surely  your  father  would 
not  raise  any  objection?" 

She  shook  her  head.  "No — no!  He  doesn't  care  what 
happens  to  me.  I  used  to  think  he  did;  but  he  doesn't — 
he  doesn't." 

"Then  what  is  the  difficulty?"  asked  Scott. 

She  was  silent,  and  he  saw  the  hot  colour  spreading  over 
her  neck  as  she  turned  her  face  away. 

"Won't  you  tell  me?"  he  urged  gently.  "Is  there  some 
particular  reason  why  you  want  to  stay?" 

"Oh  no!  I'm  not  going  to  stay."  Quickly  she  made 
answer.  "I  am  never  going  back.  I  couldn't  after — 
after — "  She  broke  off  in  quivering  distress. 

"I  think  your  mother  will  be  sorry  presently,"  he  said. 
' '  People  with  violent  tempers  generally  repent  very  deeply 
afterwards." 

Dinah  turned  upon  him  suddenly  and  hotly.  "She  will 
never  repent!"  she  declared.  "She  hates  me.  She  has 
always  hated  me.  And  I  hate  her — hate  her — hate 
her!" 

The  concentrated  passion  of  her  made  her  vibrate  from 
head  to  foot.  Her  eyes  glittered  like  emeralds.  She  was 
possessed  by  such  a  fury  of  hatred  as  made  her  scarcely 
recognizable. 

Scott  looked  at  her  steadily  for  a  moment  or  two.  Then : 
"But  it  does  you  more  harm  than  good  to  say  so, "  he  said. 
"And  it  doesn't  answer  my  question,  does  it?  Dinah,  if 
you  don't  feel  that  you  can  do  this  thing  for  your  own  sake, 


The  Valley  of  Humiliation  433 

won't  you  do  it  for  Isabel's?     She  is  needing  you  badly 
just  now." 

The  vindictive  look  went  out  of  Dinah's  face.  Her  eyes 
softened,  and  he  saw  the  hopeless  tears  well  up  again. 
"But  I  couldn't  help  her  any  more,"  she  said. 

"The  very  fact  of  having  you  to  care  for  would  help 
her,"  Scott  said. 

Dinah  shook  her  head.  She  was  sitting  on  the  ground 
with  her  hands  clasped  round  her  knees.  As  the  tears 
splashed  down  again,  she  turned  her  face  away. 

"  It  wouldn't  help  her,  it  wouldn't  help  anybody,  to  have 
me  as  I  am  now,"  she  said.  "I  can't  tell  you — I  can't 
explain.  But — I  am  not  fit  to  associate  with  anyone 
good." 

Scott  leaned  towards  her.  "Dinah,  my  dear,  you  are 
torturing  yourself,"  he  said.  " It's  natural,  I  know.  You 
have  had  no  sleep,  and  you  have  cried  yourself  ill.  But  I 
am  not  going  to  give  in  to  you.  I  am  not  going  to  take  No 
for  an  answer.  You  have  no  plans  for  yourself,  and  I  doubt 
if  in  your  present  state  you  are  capable  of  forming  any. 
Isabel  wants  you,  and  it  would  be  cruel  to  disappoint  her. 
So  you  and  I  will  join  her  at  Great  Mallowes  this  afternoon. 
I  will  deal  with  your  people  in  the  matter,  but  I  do  not 
anticipate  any  great  difficulty  in  that  direction.  Now  that 
is  settled,  and  you  need  not  weary  yourself  with  any  fur- 
ther discussion.  I  am  responsible,  and  I  will  bear  my 
responsibility." 

His  tone  was  kind  but  it  held  unmistakable  finality. 

Dinah  uttered  a  heavy  sigh,  and  said  no  more.  She 
lacked  the  strength  for  prolonged  opposition. 

He  persuaded  her  to  drink  some  more  of  the  milk,  and 
made  a  cushion  of  his  coat  for  her  against  the  tree. 

"Perhaps  you  will  get  a  little  sleep,"  he  said,  as  she 
suffered  herself  to  relax  somewhat.     "Will  it  disturb  you 
if  I  smoke?" 
28 


434  Greatheart 

"No,"  she  said. 

He  took  out  his  case.  "Shut  your  eyes!"  he  said  practi- 
cally. 

But  Dinah's  eyes  remained  open,  watching  him.  He 
began  to  smoke  as  if  unaware  of  her  scrutiny. 

After  several  moments  she  spoke.     "Scott!" 

He  turned  to  her.     "  Yes  ?     What  is  it  ? " 

The  piteous,  shamed  colour  rose  up  under  his  eyes. 
Again  she  turned  her  face  away.  "That — that  sapphire 
pendant!"  she  murmured.  "I  brought  it  with  me.  Of 
course — I  know — the  presents  will  have  to  be  returned.  I 
didn't  mean  to — to  run  away  with  it.  But — but — I  loved 
it  so.  I  couldn't  have  borne  my  mother  to  touch  it.  Shall 
I — shall  I  give  it  you  now?" 

"No,  dear,"  he  answered  firmly.  "Neither  now  nor  at 
any  time.  I  gave  it  to  you  as  a  token  of  friendship,  and  I 
would  like  you  to  keep  it  always  for  that  reason. " 

"Always?"  questioned  Dinah.  "Even  if — if  I  never 
marry  at  all?" 

"Certainly,"  he  said. 

"Because  I  never  shall  marry  now,"  she  said,  speak- 
ing with  difficulty.  "I — have  quite  given  up  that 
idea." 

"I  should  like  you  to  keep  it  in  any  case,"  Scott 
said. 

"You  are  very  good, "  she  said  earnestly.  " I — I  wonder 
you  will  have  anything  to  do  with  me  now  that  you  know 
how — how  wicked  I  am." 

"I  don't  think  you  wicked,"  he  said. 

"Don't  you?"  She  opened  her  heavy  eyes  a  little. 
"You  don't  blame  me  for — for — "  She  broke  off  shudder- 
ing, and  as  she  did  so,  there  came  again  the  rumble  and  roar 
of  a  distant  train.  "Then  why  did  you  stop  me?"  she 
whispered  tensely. 

Scott  was  silent  for  a  moment  or  two.     He  was  gazing 


The  Valley  of  Humiliation  435 

straight  before  him.  At  length,  "I  stopped  you,"  he  said, 
"because  I  had  to.  It  doesn't  matter  why.  You  would 
have  done  the  same  in  my  place.  But  I  don't  blame  you, 
partly  because  it  is  not  my  business,  and  partly  because  I 
know  quite  well  that  you  didn't  realize  what  you  were 
doing." 

"I  did  realize,"  Dinah  said.  "If  it  weren't  for  you — 
because  you  are  so  good — nothing  would  have  stopped  me. 
Even  now — even  now —  "  again  the  hot  tears  came — "I've 
nothing  to  live  for,  and — and — God — doesn't — care." 
She  turned  her  face  into  her  arm  and  wept  silently. 

Scott  made  a  sudden  movement,  and  threw  his  cigarette 
away.  Then  swiftly  he  bent  over  her. 

"Dinah,"  he  said,  "stop  crying!  You're  making  a  big 
mistake." 

His  tone  was  arresting,  imperative.  She  looked  up  at 
him  almost  in  spite  of  herself.  His  eyes  gazed  straight  into 
hers,  and  it  seemed  to  her  that  there  was  something  mag- 
netic, something  that  was  even  unearthly,  in  their  close 
regard. 

"You  are  making  a  mistake,"  he  repeated.  "God 
always  cares.  He  cared  enough  to  send  a  friend  to  look 
after  you.  Do  you  want  any  stronger  proof  than  that? " 

"I — don't — know,"  Dinah  said,  awe-struck. 

"Think  about  it!"  Scott  insisted.  "Do  you  seriously 
imagine  that  it  was  just  chance  that  brought  me  along  at 
that  particular  moment  ?  Do  you  think  it  was  chance  that 
made  you  draw  back  yesterday  from  giving  yourself  to  a 
man  you  don't  love?  Was  it  chance  that  sent  you  to 
Switzerland  in  the  first  place?  Don't  you  know  in  your 
heart  that  God  has  been  guiding  you  all  through?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Dinah  said  again,  but  there  was  less  of 
hopelessness  in  her  voice.  The  shining  certainty  in  Scott's 
eyes  was  warring  with  her  doubt.  "  But  then,  why  has  He 
let  me  suffer  so?" 


436  Greatheart 

"Why  did  He  suffer  so  Himself? "  Scott  said.  " Except 
that  He  might  learn  obedience?  It's  a  bitter  lesson  to  all 
of  us,  Dinah;  but  it's  got  to  be  learnt. " 

"You  have  learnt  it!"  she  said,  with  a  touch  of  her  own 
impulsiveness. 

He  smiled  a  little — smiled  and  sighed.  "I  wonder. 
I've  learnt  anyhow  to  believe  in  the  goodness  of  God,  and  to 
know  that  though  we  can't  see  Him  in  all  things,  it's  not 
because  He  isn't  there.  Even  those  who  know  Him  best 
can't  realize  Him  always." 

"But  still  you  are  sure  He  is  there?"  Dinah  questioned. 

"I  am  quite  sure,"  he  said,  with  a  conviction  so  absolute 
that  it  placed  further  questioning  beyond  the  bounds 
of  possibility.  "Life  is  full  of  problems  which  it  is  out 
of  any  man's  power  to  solve.  But  to  anyone  who  will 
take  the  trouble  to  see  them  the  signs  are  unmistakable. 
There  is  not  a  single  soul  that  is  left  unaccounted  for  in  the 
reckoning  of  God.  He  cares  for  all." 

There  was  no  contradicting  him;  Dinah  was  too  weary 
for  discussion  in  any  case.  But  he  had  successfully  checked 
her  tears  at  last;  he  had  even  in  a  measure  managed  to 
comfort  her  torn  soul.  She  lay  for  a  space  pondering  the 
matter. 

"I  am  afraid  I  am  one  of  those  who  don't  take  the 
trouble,"  she  said  at  length.  "But  I  shall  try  to  now. 
Thank  you  for  all  your  goodness  to  me,  Mr.  Greatheart. " 
She  smiled  at  him  wanly.  "I  don't  deserve  it — not  a 
quarter  of  it.  But  I'm  grateful  all  the  same.  Please  won't 
you  have  your  smoke  now,  and  forget  me  and  my  troubles? " 

That  smile  cheered  Scott  more  than  any  words.  He 
recognized  moreover  that  the  delicate  touch  of  reserve 
that  characterized  her  speech  was  the  first  evidence  of 
returning  self-control  that  she  had  manifested. 

He  took  out  his  cigarette-case  again.  "I  hope  you 
haven't  found  me  over-presumptuous, "  he  said. 


The  Valley  of  Humiliation  437 

Dinah  reached  up  a  trembling  hand.  "Presumptu- 
ous for  helping  me  in  the  Valley  of  Humiliation?"  she 
said. 

He  took  the  hand  and  held  it  firmly.  "I  am  so  used 
to  it  myself, "  he  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "  I  ought  to  know  a 
little  about  it." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Dinah  thoughtfully,  "that  is  what 
makes  you  great." 

He  raised  his  shoulders  slightly.  "You  have  always 
seen  me  through  a  magnif y ing-glass, "  he  said  whimsically. 
' '  Some  day  the  fates  will  reverse  that  glass  and  then  you 
will  be  unutterably  shocked." 

Dinah  smiled  again  and  shook  her  head.  "I  know 
you,"  she  said. 

He  lighted  his  cigarette,  and  then  brought  out  a  pocket- 
book.  "  I  want  to  write  a  note  to  Isabel, "  he  said.  "  You 
don't  mind?" 

"About  me?"  questioned  Dinah. 

"About  the  arrangements  I  am  making.  She  is  motoring 
to  Great  Mallowes  in  any  case  to  catch  the  afternoon 
express." 

"Oh!"  said  Dinah,  and  coloured  vividly,  painfully. 

Scott  did  not  see.  ' '  I  can  get  someone  at  the  farm  to 
take  the  message, "  he  said.  "  And  when  once  you  are  with 
Isabel  I  shall  feel  easy  about  you." 

"And — and — my — mother?"  faltered  Dinah. 

"I  shall  write  to  her  this  afternoon  while  we  are  waiting 
for  Isabel,"  said  Scott  quietly. 

"What — shall  you  say?"  whispered  Dinah. 

"Do  you  mind  leaving  that  entirely  to  me?"  he  said. 

"She  will  be — furious,"  she  murmured.  "She  might — 
out  of  revenge  come  after  us.  What  then? " 

"She  will  certainly  not  do  that,"  said  Scott,  "as  she 
will  not  know  your  address.  Besides,  people  do  not  remain 
furious,  you  know.  They  cool  down,  and  then  they  are 


438  Greatheart 

generally  ashamed  of  themselves.  Don't  let  us  talk  about 
your  mother!" 

"The  de  Vignes  then,"  said  Dinah,  turning  from  the 
subject  with  relief.  "Tell  me  what  happened!  Was  the 
Colonel  very  angry?" 

Scott's  mouth  twitched  slightly.  "Not  in  the  least," 
he  said. 

"Not  really!"  Dinah  looked  incredulous  for  a  moment; 
then:  "  Perhaps  he  thinks  there  is  a  fresh  chance  for  Rose, " 
she  said. 

"Perhaps  he  does,"  agreed  Scott  dryly.  "In  any  case, 
he  is  more  disposed  to  smile  than  frown,  and  as  Eustace 
wasn't  there  to  see  it,  it  didn't  greatly  matter. " 

"Oh,  poor  Eustace!"  she  whispered.  "It — was  dread- 
ful to  hurt  him  so. " 

"I  think  he  will  get  over  it,"  Scott  said. 

"He  was  much — kinder — than — than  I  deserved,"  she 
murmured. 

Scott's  faint  smile  reappeared.  "Perhaps  he  found  it 
difficult  to  be  anything  else,"  he  said. 

She  shook  her  head.  "  I  wonder — how  I  came  to  make — 
such  a  dreadful  mistake." 

"It  wasn't  your  fault,"  said  Scott. 

She  looked  at  him  quickly.  "What  makes  you  say 
that?" 

He  met  her  look  gravely.  "Because  I  know  just  how  it 
happened,"  he  said.  "You  Were  neither  of  you  in  earnest 
in  the  first  place.  I  am  afraid  I  had  a  hand  in  making  Eus- 
tace propose  to  you.  I  was  afraid — and  so  was  Isabel — 
you  would  be  hurt  by  his  trifling. " 

"And  you  interfered?"  breathed  Dinah. 

He  nodded.  "Yes,  I  told  him  it  must  be  one  thing  or 
the  other.  I  wanted  you  to  be  happy.  But  instead  of 
helping  you,  I  landed  you  in  this  mess." 

Something  in  his  tone  touched  her.      She  laid  a  small 


The  Valley  of  Humiliation  439 

shy  hand  upon  his  knee.  "It  was — dear  of  you,  Scott," 
she  said  very  earnestly.  "Thank  you — ever  so  much — for 
what  you  did." 

He  put  his  hand  on  hers.  "My  dear,  I  would  have  given 
all  I  had  to  have  undone  it  afterwards.  It  is  very  generous 
of  you  to  take  it  like  that.  I  have  often  wanted  to  kick 
myself  since." 

"Then  you  must  never  want  to  again,"  she  said.  "Do 
you  know  I'm  so  glad  you've  told  me?  It  was  so — fine  of 
you — to  do  that  for  me.  I'm  sure  you  couldn't  have 
wanted  me  for  a  sister-in-law  even  then." 

"  I  wanted  you  to  be  happy, "  Scott  reiterated. 

She  uttered  a  quick  sigh.  "  Happiness  isn't  everything, 
is  it?" 

"Not  everything,  no,"  he  said. 

She  grasped  his  hand  hard.  "I'm  going  to  try  to  be 
good  instead,"  she  said.  "Will  you  help  me?" 

He  smiled  at  her  somewhat  sadly.  "If  you  think  my 
help  worth  having,"  he  said. 

"But  of  course  it  is,"  she  made  warm  answer.  "You 
are  the  strong  man  who  helps  everyone.  You  are — 
Greatheart." 

He  looked  at  her  still  smiling  and  slowly  shook  his  head. 
"Now,  if  you  don't  mind,"  he  said, "I  will  write  my  note 
to  Isabel." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

SPOKEN    IN    JEST 

afternoon  was  well  advanced  when  Scott  re- 
*•  turned  to  Perry thorpe  Court.  No  sounds  of  rev- 
elry greeted  him  as  he  entered.  A  blazing  fire  was 
burning  in  the  hall,  but  no  one  was  there  to  enjoy  the 
warmth.  The  gay  crowd  that  had  clustered  before  the 
great  hearth  only  yesterday  had  all  dispersed.  The  place 
was  empty. 

"Can  I  get  you  anything,  sir?"  enquired  the  man  who 
admitted  him. 

His  voice  was  sepulchral.  Scott  smiled  a  little.  "Yes, 
please.  A  whisky  and  soda.  Where  is  everybody  ?" 

"The  Colonel  and  Miss  Rose  went  out  riding,  sir,  after 
the  guests  had  all  gone,  and  they  have  not  yet  returned. 
Her  ladyship  is  resting  in  her  room." 

"Everyone  gone  but  me?"  questioned  Scott,  with  a 
whimsical  lift  of  the  eyebrows. 

The  man  bent  his  head  decorously.  "I  believe  so,  sir. 
There  was  a  general  feeling  that  it  would  be  more  fitting 
as  the  marriage  was  not  to  take  place  as  arranged.  I 
understand,  sir,  that  the  family  will  shortly  migrate  to 
town. " 

"Really?"  said  Scott. 

He  bent  over  the  fire,  for  the  evening  was  chilly,  and  he 
was  tired  to  the  soul.  The  man  coughed  and  withdrew. 
Again  the  silence  fell. 

440 


Spoken  in  Jest  441 

A  face  he  knew  began  to  look  up  at  Scott  out  of  the 
leaping  flames — a  face  that  was  laughing  and  provocative 
one  moment,  wistful  and  tear-stained  the  next. 

He  heaved  a  sigh  as  he  followed  the  fleeting  vision. 
"Will  she  ever  be  happy  again?"  he  asked  himself. 

The  last  sight  he  had  had  of  her  had  cut  him  to  the 
heart.  She  had  conquered  her  tears  at  last,  but  her  smile 
was  the  saddest  thing  he  had  ever  seen.  It  was  as  though 
her  vanished  childhood  had  suddenly  looked  forth  at  him 
and  bidden  him  farewell.  He  felt  that  he  would  never  see 
the  child  Dinah  again. 

The  return  of  the  servant  with  his  drink  brought  him 
back  to  his  immediate  surroundings.  He  sat  down  in  an 
easy-chair  before  the  fire  to  mix  it. 

The  man  turned  to  go,  but  he  had  not  reached  the  end  of 
the  hall  when  the  front-door  bell  rang  again.  He  went 
soft-footed  to  answer  it. 

Scott  glanced  over  his  shoulder  as  the  door  opened,  and 
heard  his  own  name. 

"Is  Mr.  Studley  here?"  a  man's  voice  asked. 

"Yes,  sir.  Just  here,  sir,"  came  the  answer,  and  Scott 
rose  with  a  weary  gesture. 

"Oh,  here  you  are!"  Airily  Guy  Bathurst  advanced  to 
meet  him.  "Don't  let  me  interrupt  your  drink!  I  only 
want  a -few  words  with  you. " 

"I'll  fetch  another  glass,  sir"  murmured  the  discreet 
man-servant,  and  vanished. 

Scott  stood,  stiff  and  uncompromising,  by  his  chair. 
There  was  a  hint  of  hostility  in  his  bearing.  "What  can  I 
do  for  you?"  he  asked. 

Bathurst  ignored  his  attitude  with  that  ease  of  manner 
of  which  he  was  a  past-master.  "Well  I  thought  perhaps 
you  could  give  me  news  of  Dinah"  he  said.  "Billy  tells 
me  he  left  you  with  her  this  morning. " 

"I  see"  said  Scott.     He  looked  at  the  other  man  with 


442  Greatheart 

level,  unblinking  eyes.  "You  are  beginning  to  feel  a  little 
anxious  about  her?"  he  questioned. 

"Well,  I  think  it's  about  time  she  came  home,"  said 
Bathurst.  He  took  out  a  cigarette  and  lighted  it.  "Her 
mother  is  wondering  what  has  become  of  her,"  he  added, 
between  the  puffs. 

"  I  posted  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Bathurst  about  an  hour  ago, " 
said  Scott.  "She  will  get  it  in  the  morning. " 

"Indeed!"  Bathurst  glanced  at  him.  "And  is  her 
whereabouts  to  remain  a  mystery  until  then?" 

"That  letter  will  reassure  you  as  to  her  safety,"  Scott 
returned  quietly.  "But  it  will  not  enlighten  you  as  to  her 
whereabouts.  She  is  in  good  hands,  and  it  is  not  her  inten- 
tion to  return  home — at  least  for  the  present.  Under  the 
circumstances  you  could  scarcely  compel  her  to  do  so." 

"I  never  compel  her  to  do  anything,"  said  Bathurst 
comfortably.  "Her  mother  keeps  her  in  order,  I  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it. " 

"Evidently  not."  A  sudden  sharp  quiver  of  scorn  ran 
through  Scott's  words.  "Her  mother  may  make  her  life 
a  positive  hell,  but  it's  no  business  of  yours!" 

A  flicker  of  temper  shone  for  a  second  in  Bathurst's  eyes. 
The  scorn  had  penetrated  even  his  thick  skin.  "None 
whatever,"  he  said  deliberately.  "Nor  of  yours  either, 
so  far  as  I  can  see." 

"There  you  are  wrong."  Hotly  Scott  took  him  up. 
"It  is  the  duty  of  every  man  to  prevent  cruelty.  Dinah 
has  been  treated  like  a  bond-slave  all  her  life.  What  were 
you  about  to  allow  it?" 

He  flung  the  question  fiercely.  The  man's  careless 
repudiation  of  all  responsibility  aroused  in  him  a  perfect 
storm  of  indignation.  He  was  probably  more  angry  at 
that  moment  than  he  had  ever  been  before. 

Guy  Bathurst  stared  at  him  for  a  second  or  two,  his  own 
resentment  quenched  in  amazement.  Finally  he  laughed. 


Spoken  in  Jest  443 

"If  you  were  married  to  my  wife,  you'd  know,"  he  said. 
"Personally  I  like  a  quiet  life.  Besides,  discipline  is  good 
for  youngsters.  I  think  Lydia  is  disposed  to  carry  it  rather 
far,  I  admit.  But  after  all,  a  woman  can't  do  much  damage 
to  her  own  daughter.  And  anyhow  it  isn't  a  man's  business 
to  interfere." 

He  broke  off  as  the  servant  reappeared,  and  seated  him- 
self in  a  chair  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire.  He  drank  some 
whisky  and  water  in  large,  appreciative  gulps,  and  resumed 
his  cigarette. 

"If  Dinah  had  seriously  wanted  to  get  away  from  it,  she 
should  have  married  your  brother, "  he  said  then.  "  It  was 
her  own  doing  entirely,  this  last  affair.  A  girl  shouldn't 
jilt  her  lover  at  the  last  moment  if  she  isn't  prepared  to  face 
the  consequences.  She  knows  her  mother's  temper  by  this 
time,  I  should  imagine.  She  might  have  guessed  what  was 
in  store  for  her. "  He  looked  across  at  Scott  as  one  seeking 
sympathy.  "You'll  admit  it  was  a  tomfool  thing  to  do," 
he  said.  "I  don't  wonder  at  her  mother  wanting  to  make 
her  smart  for  it.  I  really  don't.  Dinah  ought  to  have 
known  her  own  mind. " 

"She  knows  it  now,"  said  Scott  grimly. 

"Yes.  So  it  appears.  By  the  way,  have  you  any  idea 
what  induced  her  to  throw  your  brother  over  in  that  way 
just  at  the  last  minute?  It  would  be  interesting  to  know. " 

"Did  she  give  you  no  reason?"  said  Scott.  He  hated 
parleying  with  the  man,  but  something  impelled  him 
thereto. 

Guy  Bathurst  leaning  back  at  his  ease  with  his  cigarette 
between  his  lips,  uttered  a  careless  laugh.  "She seemed 
to  think  she  wasn't  in  love  with  him.  We  couldn't  get  any 
more  out  of  her  than  that.  As  a  matter  of  fact  her  mother 
was  too  furious  to  attempt  it.  But  there  must  have  been 
some  other  reason.  I  wondered  if  you  knew  what  it  was. " 

"I  shouldn't  have  thought  it  essential  that  there  should 


444  Greatheart 

have  been  any  other  reason, "  Scott  said  deliberately.  "If 
there  is — I  am  not  in  her  confidence." 

He  was  still  on  his  feet  as  if  he  wished  it  to  be  clearly 
understood  that  he  did  not  intend  their  conversation  to 
develop  into  anything  of  the  nature  of  friendly  intercourse. 

Bathurst  continued  to  smoke,  but  a  faint  air  of  insolence 
was  apparent  in  his  attitude.  He  was  not  accustomed  to 
being  treated  with  contempt,  and  the  desire  awoke  within 
him  to  find  some  means  of  disconcerting  this  undersized 
whippersnapper  who  had  almost  succeeded  in  making  him 
feel  cheap. 

"You  haven't  been  making  love  to  her  on  your  own 
account  by  any  chance,  I  suppose?"  he  enquired  lazily. 

Scott's  eyes  flashed  upon  him  a  swift  and  hawk-like 
regard,  and  the  hauteur  that  so  often  characterized  his 
brother  suddenly  descended  upon  him  and  clothed  him 
as  a  mantle. 

"I  have  not,"  he  said. 

"Quite  sure?"  persisted  Bathurst,  still  amiably  smiling. 
"It's  my  belief  she's  smitten  with  you,  you  know.  I've 
thought  so  all  along.  Funny  idea,  isn't  it?  Never  occurred 
to  you  of  course?" 

Scott  made  no  reply,  but  his  silence  was  more  scathing 
than  speech.  It  served  to  arouse  all  the  rancour  of  which 
Bathurst's  indolent  nature  was  capable. 

"No  accounting  for  women's  preference,  is  there?"  he 
said.  "  You  ought  to  feel  vastly  flattered,  my  good  sir.  It 
isn't  many  women  would  put  you  before  that  handsome 
brother  of  yours.  How  did  you  work  it,  eh?  Come,  you're 
caught!  So  you  may  as  well  own  up." 

Scott  shrugged  his  shoulders  abruptly,  disdainfully,  and 
turned  from  him.  "If  you  choose  to  amuse  yourself  at 
your  daughter's  expense,  I  cannot  prevent  you,"  he  said. 
"But  there  is  not  a  grain  of  truth  in  your  insinuation.  I 
repudiate  it  absolutely." 


Spoken  in  Jest  445 

"My  dear  fellow,  that's  a  bit  thick,"  laughed  Bathurst; 
he  had  found  the  vulnerable  spot,  and  he  meant  to  make  the 
most  of  it.  "  Do  you  actually  expect  me  to  believe  that  you 
won  her  away  from  your  brother  without  knowing  it? 
That's  rather  a  tough  proposition,  too  tough  for  my  middle- 
aged  digestion.  You've  been  trifling  with  her  young 
affections,  but  you  are  not  man  enough  to  own  it. " 

"You  are  wrong,  utterly  wrong,"  Scott  said.  He 
restrained  himself  with  difficulty;  for  still  something  was 
at  work  within  him  urging  him  to  be  temperate.  "Dinah 
has  never  dreamed  of  falling  in  love  with  me.  As  you  say, 
the  bare  idea  is  manifestly  absurd.  " 

"Then  who  is  she  in  love  with?"  demanded  Bathurst, 
with  lazy  insistence.  "You're  the  only  other  man  she 
knows,  and  there's  certainly  someone.  No  girl  would 
throw  up  such  a  catch  as  your  brother  for  the  mere  senti- 
ment of  the  thing.  It  stands  to  reason  there  must  be 
someone  else.  And  there  is  no  one  but  you.  She  doesn't 
know  anyone  else,  I  tell  you.  She  has  no  opportunities. 
Her  mother  sees  to  that. " 

Scott  was  bending  over  the  fire,  his  face  to  the  flame. 
His  indignation  had  died  down.  He  was  very  still,  as  one 
deep  in  thought.  Could  it  be  the  true  word  spoken  in  ill- 
timed  jest  which  he  had  just  heard?  He  wondered;  he 
wondered. 

A  golden  radiance  was  spreading  forth  to  him  from  the 
heart  of  those  leaping  flames,  like  the  coming  of  the  dawn- 
light  over  the  dark  earth.  He  watched  it  spell-bound, 
utterly  unmindful  of  the  man  behind  him.  If  this  thing 
were  true!  Ah,  if  this  thing  were  true!  .  .  . 

A  sudden  sound  made  him  turn  to  see  Colonel  de  Vigne 
and  his  daughter  enter. 

They  came  forward  to  greet  him  and  Bathurst.  Rose 
was  smiling;  her  eyes  were  softly  bright. 

"How  happy  she  looks!"  was  the  thought  that  occurred 


446  Greatheart 

to  him,  but  it  was  only  a  passing  thought.  It  vanished  in  a 
moment  as  he  heard  her  accost  Bathurst. 

"How  is  our  poor  little  Dinah  by  this  time?" 

"You  had  better  ask  this  gentleman,"  airily  responded 
Bathurst.  "He  has  elected  to  make  himself  responsible 
for  her  welfare. " 

Rose's  delicate  brows  went  up,  but  very  strangely  Scott 
no  longer  felt  in  the  least  disconcerted.  He  replied  to  her 
unspoken  query  without  difficulty. 

"Dinah  felt  that  she  could  not  face  the  gossips,  "  he  said, 
"and  as  Isabel  was  badly  wanting  her,  they  have  gone  away 
together.  Except  for  old  Biddy,  they  will  be  quite  alone, 
and  it  will  do  them  both  all  the  good  in  the  world. " 

Rose's  brow  cleared.  "What  an  excellent  arrange- 
ment!" she  murmured  sympathetically.  "And — your 
brother?" 

Scott  smiled.  "Needless  to  say,  he  is  not  of  the  party. 
His  plans  are  somewhat  uncertain.  He  may  go  abroad  for 
a  time,  but  I  doubt  if  he  banishes  himself  for  long  when  the 
London  season  is  in  full  swing." 

Rose's  smile  answered  his.  "I  think  he  is  very  wise," 
she  said.  "When  Easter  is  over,  we  shall  probably  follow 
his  example.  I  hope  we  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
you  when  we  are  all  in  town." 

"Ha!  So  do  I, "  said  the  Colonel.  "You  must  look  me 
up  at  the  Club — any  time.  I  shall  be  delighted. " 

"You  are  very  kind,"  Scott  said.  "But  I  go  to  town 
very  rarely,  and  I  never  stay  there.  My  brother  is  far 
more  of  a  society  man  than  I  am." 

"You  will  have  to  come  out  of  your  shell, "  smiled  Rose. 

"Quite  so — quite  so,  "  agreed  the  Colonel.  " It  isn't  fair 
to  cheat  society,  you  know.  If  we  can't  dance  at  your 
brother's  wedding,  you  might  give  us  the  pleasure  of  dancing 
at  yours." 

Bathurst   uttered   a   careless   laugh.     "I've   just   been 


Spoken  in  Jest  447 

accusing  him  of  cutting  his  brother  out, "  he  said  lightly. 
"But  he  denies  all  knowledge  of  the  transaction. " 

"Oh,  but  what  a  shame!"  interposed  Rose  quickly. 
"Mr.  Studley,  we  won't  listen  to  this  gossip.  Will  you 
come  up  to  my  sitting-room,  and  show  me  that  new  game 
of  Patience  you  were  talking  about  yesterday?  Bring  your 
drink  with  you!" 

He  went  with  her  almost  in  silence. 

In  her  own  room  she  turned  upon  him  with  a  wonderful, 
illumined  smile,  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"I  won't  have  you  badgered,"  she  said.  "But — it  is 
true,  is  it  not?" 

He  took  her  hand,  looking  straight  into  her  beautiful 
eyes.  There  was  more  life  in  her  face  at  that  moment 
than  he  had  ever  seen  before.  She  was  as  one  suddenly 
awakened.  "What  is  true,  Miss  de  Vigne? "  he  questioned. 

"That  you  care  for  her,"  she  answered,  "that  she  cares 
for  you." 

His  look  remained  full  upon  her.  "  In  a  friendly  sense, 
yes,"  he  said. 

"In  no  other  sense?"  she  insisted.  Her  eyes  were 
shining,  as  if  her  whole  soul  were  suddenly  alight  with 
animation.  "Tell  me,"  she  said,  as  he  did  not  speak 
immediately,  "have  you  ever  cared  for  her  merely  as  a 
friend?" 

There  was  no  evading  the  question,  neither  for  some 
reason  could  he  resent  it.  He  hesitated  for  a  second  or 
two;  then,  "You  have  guessed  right,"  he  said  quietly. 
"But  she  has  never  suspected  it,  and — she  never  will. " 

To  his  surprise  Rose  frowned.  "But  why  not  tell  her?" 
she  said.  "Surely  she  has  a  right  to  know!" 

He  smiled  and  shook  his  head.  "Pardon  me!  No  one 
has  the  smallest  right  to  know.  Would  you  say  that  of 
yourself  if  you  cared  for  someone  who  did  not  care  for 
you?" 


448  Greatheart 

She  blushed  under  his  eyes  suddenly  and  very  vividly,  and 
in  a  moment  turned  from  him.  "Ah,  but  that  is  different ! " 
she  said.  "A  woman  is  different!  If  she  gives  her  heart 
where  it  is  not  wanted,  that  is  her  affair  alone. " 

He  did  not  pursue  his  advantage;  he  liked  her  for  the 
blush. 

"Isn't  it  rather  an  unprofitable  discussion?"  he  said 
gently.  "Suppose  we  get  to  our  game  of  Patience! " 

And  Rose  acquiesced  in  silence. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE   KNIGHT   IN   DISGUISE 

ALONG,  curling  wave  ran  up  the  shingle  and  broke  in 
a  snow-white  sheet  of  foam  just  below  Dinah's  feet. 
She  was  perched  on  a  higher  ridge  of  shingle,  bareheaded, 
full  in  the  glare  of  the  mid- June  sunlight.  Her  brown 
hands  were  locked  tightly  around  her  knees.  Her  small, 
pointed  face  looked  wistfully  over  the  sea. 

She  had  been  sitting  in  that  position  for  a  long  time, 
her  green  eyes  unblinking  but  swimming  in  the  heat  and 
glare.  The  dark  ringlets  on  her  forehead  danced  in  the 
soft  breeze  that  came  over  the  water.  There  was 
tension  in  her  attitude,  the  tension  of  deep  and  concen- 
trated thought. 

Into  the  midst  of  her  meditations,  there  came  a  slow, 
halting  step.  It  fell  on  the  shingle  behind  her,  reaching 
her  above  the  roar  of  the  breakers,  and  instantly  a  flood  of 
colour  rushed  up  over  her  face  and  neck. 

Sharply  she  turned .     "Scott !" 

She  was  on  her  feet  in  a  second  with  hand  outstretched 
in  welcome. 

' '  Oh,  how  you  startled  me !  How  good  of  you  to  come  so 
soon!  I — shouldn't  have  left  the  house  if  I  had  known." 

"I  came  at  once,"  he  said  simply.  "But  I  have  only 
just  got  here.  I  saw  you  sitting  on  the  shore  and  came 
straight  to  you.  What  news?" 

His  quiet,  deliberate  voice  was  in  striking  contrast 
29  449 


45°  Greatheart 

to  her  agitated  utterance.  The  hand  that  held  hers  was 
absolutely  steady. 

She  met  his  look  with  confidence.  "Scott,  she  is  going. 
You  knew  it — didn't  you? — when  you  were  here  last 
Sunday?  She  knew  it  too.  She  didn't  want  you  to  go 
really.  And  so — directly  I  realized  she  was  worse — I  sent 
for  you.  But — they  say — even  now  she  may  linger  for  a 
little.  But  you'll  stay,  won't  you?  You  won't  go  again?" 

His  grave  eyes  looked  into  hers.  ' '  Of  course  I  will  stay, ' ' 
he  said. 

She  drew  a  quick  sigh  of  relief.  "She  scarcely  slept 
last  night.  Her  breathing  was  so  bad.  It  was  very  hot, 
you  know.  The  nurse  or  I  were  fanning  her  nearly  all  the 
time,  till  the  morning  breeze  came  at  last.  And  then  she 
got  quieter.  She  is  asleep  now.  They  say  she  will  sleep 
for  hours.  And  so  I  slipped  out  just  for  a  little,  so  as  to  be 
quite  fresh  again  when  she  wakes." 

"Don't  you  sleep  at  all?"  Scott  asked  gently. 

The  colour  was  fading  from  her  face;  it  returned  at  his 
question.  "Oh  yes,  any  time.  It  doesn't  matter  for  me. 
I  am  so  strong.  And  I  can  sleep — afterwards. " 

He  looked  down  at  the  thin  little  hand  he  still  held. 
"You  mustn't  wear  yourself  out,  Dinah, "  he  said. 

Her  lip  quivered  suddenly.  "What  does  it  matter? "  she 
said.  "  I've  nothing  else  to  live  for. " 

"  I  don't  think  we  can  any  of  us  say  that, "  he  answered. 
"There  is  always  something  left." 

She  turned  her  face  and  looked  over  the  sea.  "I'm  sure 
I  don't  know  what, "  she  said,  with  a  catch  in  her  voice. 
"  If — Isabel — were  going  to  live,  if — if  I  could  only  have  her 
always,  I  should  be  quite  happy.  I  shouldn't  want  any- 
thing else.  But  without  her — life  without  her — after  these 
two  months, — "  her  voice  broke  and  ceased. 

"I  know,"  Scott  said.  "I  should  have  felt  the  same 
myself  not  so  long  ago.  I  have  let  you  slip  into  my  place, 


The  Knight  in  Disguise  451 

you  see;  and  it  comes  hard  on  you  now.  But  don't  forget 
our  friendship,  Dinah!  Don't  forget  I'm  here!" 

She  turned  back,  swallowing  her  tears  with  difficulty 
and  gave  him  a  quivering  smile.  "Oh,  I  know.  You  are 
so  good.  And  it  was  dear  of  you  to — to  let  me  take  your 
place  with  her.  None  but  you  would  have  done  such  a 
thing." 

"My  dear,  it  was  far  better  for  her,  and  she  wished  it, " 
he  interposed.  "Besides,  with  Eustace  away,  I  had  plenty 
to  do.  You  mustn't  twist  that  into  a  virtue.  It  was  the 
only  course  open  to  me.  I  knew  that  it  would  lift  her  out 
of  misery  to  have  you,  and — naturally — I  wished  it  too.  " 

She  nodded.  "It  was  just  like  you.  And  I — I  ought 
to  have  remembered  that  it  couldn't  last.  It  has  been  such 
a  comfort  to — to  have  my  darling  to  love  and  care  for. 
But  oh,  the  blank  when  she  is  gone ! " 

Scott  was  silent. 

"It's  wrong  to  want  to  keep  her,  I  know,"  Dinah  went 
on  wistfully.  "She  has  got  so  wonderfully  happy  of  late; 
and  I  know  it  is  the  thought  of  nearing  the  end  of  the 
journey  that  makes  her  so.  And  when  I  am  with  her,  I  feel 
happy  too  for  her  sake.  But  when  I  am  away  from  her — 
it — it's  all  so  dreary.  I — feel  so  frightened  and — alone." 

"Don't  be  frightened!"  Scott  said  gently.  "You never 
are  alone." 

"Ah,  but  life  is  so  difficult,  "  she  whispered. 

"It  would  be,"  he  answered,  "if  we  had  to  face  it  all  at 
once.  But,  thank  God,  that  is  not  so.  We  can  only  see  a 
little  way  ahead.  We  can  only  do  a  little  at  a  time. " 

"Do  you  think  that  is  a  help? "  she  said.  "I  would  give 
anything — sometimes — to  look  into  the  future." 

"I  think  the  burden  would  be  greater  than  we  coulc> 
bear, "  Scott  said. 

' '  Oh,  do  you  ?  I  think  it  would  be  such  a  relief  to  know. ' ' 
Dinah  uttered  a  sharp  sigh.  "It's  no  good  talking,"  she 


452  Greatheart 

said.  "  Only  one  thing  is  certain.  I'm  not  going  to  break 
with  Billy  of  course,  but  I'll  never  go  back  to  Perrythorpe 
again,  never  as  long  as  I  live!" 

There  was  a  quiver  of  passion  in  her  voice.  She  looked 
at  Scott  with  what  was  almost  a  challenge  in  her  eyes. 

He  did  not  answer  it.  His  face  wore  a  look  of  perplexity. 
But,  "If  I  were  in  your  place, "  he  said  quietly,  "I  think  I 
should  say  the  same. " 

"I  am  sure  you  would,"  she  said  warmly.  "I  only 
tolerated  it  so  long  because  I  didn't  know  what  freedom  was 
like.  When  I  went  to  Switzerland,  I  found  out;  and  when 
I  came  back,  it  just  wasn't  endurable  any  longer.  But  I 
wish  I  knew— I  do  wish  I  knew — what  I  were  going  to  do. " 

The  words  were  out  before  she  could  stop  them,  but  the 
moment  they  were  uttered  she  made  a  sharp  gesture  as 
though  she  would  recall  them. 

"I'm  silly  to  talk  like  this,"  she  said.  "Please  forget 
it!" 

He  smiled  a  little.  "Not  silly,  Dinah,"  he  said,  "but 
mistaken.  Believe  me,  the  future  is  already  provided 
for." 

Her  brows  contracted  slightly.  "Ah,  you  are  good,"  she 
said.  "You  believe  in  God. " 

"So  do  you,"  he  said,  with  quiet  conviction. 

Her  lip  quivered.  "I  believe  He  would  help  anyone  like 
you,  but — but  He  wouldn't  bother  Himself  about  me. 
There  are  too  many  others  of  the  same  sort. " 

Scott  looked  at  her  in  genuine  astonishment.  "What 
a  curious  idea!"  he  said.  "You  don't  really  think  that, 
do  you?" 

She  nodded.  "I  can't  help  it.  Life  is  such  a  maze  of 
difficulties,  and  one  has  to  face  them  all  alone. " 

"You  won't  face  yours  alone, "  he  said  quickly. 

She  smiled  rather  piteously.  "I've  faced  all  the  worst 
bits  alone  so  far." 


The  Knight  in  Disguise  453 

"I  know,"  Scott  said.  "But  you  are  through  the  worst 
now." 

She  shook  her  head  doubtfully.  "I'm  afraid  of  life," 
she  said. 

He  saw  that  she  did  not  wish  to  pursue  the  subject  and 
put  it  gently  aside.  "Shall  we  go  in ?"  he  said.  "  I  should 
like  to  be  at  hand  when  Isabel  wakes. " 

She  turned  beside  him  at  once.  Their  talk  went  back  to 
Isabel.  They  spoke  of  her  tenderly,  as  one  nearing  the  end 
of  a  long  and  wearisome  journey,  and  as  they  approached 
the  little  white  house  on  the  heath  above  the  sea,  Dinah 
gave  somewhat  hesitating  utterance  to  a  thought  that  had 
been  persistently  in  her  mind  of  late. 

"  Do  you, "  she  said,  speaking  with  evident  effort,  "think 
that — Eustace  should  be  sent  for?" 

"  Does  she  want  him? "  said  Scott. 

"I  don't  know.  She  never  speaks  of  him.  But  then — 
that  may  be — for  my  sake. "  Dinah's  voice  was  very  low 
and  not  wholly  free  from  distress.  "And  again — it  may  be 
on  my  account  he  is  keeping  away.  She  hasn't  seen  him  for 
these  two  months — not  since  we  left  Perrythorpe. " 

"  No, "  Scott  said  gravely.     ' '  I  know. ' ' 

Dinah  was  silent  for  a  brief  space ;  then  she  braced  herself 
for  another  effort.  "Scott,  I — don't  want  to  be — in  any- 
one's way.  If — if  she  would  like  to  see  him,  and  if  he — 
doesn't  want  to  come — because  of  me,  I — must  go,  that's 
all." 

She  spoke  with  resolution,  and  pausing  at  the  gate  that 
led  off  the  heath  into  the  garden  looked  him  straight  in  the 
face. 

"I  want  you, "  she  said  rather  breathlessly,  "to  find  out 
if — that  is  so.  And  if  it  is — if  it  is " 

"My  dear,  you  needn't  be  afraid,"  Scott  said.  "I  am 
quite  sure  that  Eustace  wouldn't  wish  to  drive  you  away. 
He  might  be  doubtful  as  to  whether  you  would  care  to  meet 


454  Greatheart 

him  again  so  soon,  but  if  you  had  no  objection  to  his  coming, 
he  wouldn't  deliberately  stay  away  on  his  own  account. 
You  know — I  don't  think  you've  ever  realized  it — he  loves 
Isabel." 

"Then  he  must  want  to  come,"  she  said  quickly.  "Oh, 
Scott,  do  you  know — I  said  a  dreadful — a  cruel — thing  to 
him — that  last  day.  If  he  really  loves  her,  it  must  have 
hurt  him — terribly.  " 

"What  did  you  say?"  Scott  asked. 

"I  said — "  the  quick  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes — "I  said 
that  he  was  unkind  to  her,  and  that — that  she  was  always 
miserable  when  he  was  there.  Scott,  what  made  me  say  it  ? 
It  was  hateful  of  me !  It  was  hateful ! " 

"It  was  the  truth,"  Scott  said.  He  looked  at  her 
thoughtfully  for  a  few  seconds,  then  very  kindly  he  patted 
her  hand  as  it  rested  on  the  gate.  "Don't  be  so  dis- 
tressed!" he  said.  "It  probably  did  him  good — even  if  it 
did  hurt.  But  I  think  you  are  right.  If  Isabel  has  the 
smallest  wish  to  see  him,  he  must  come.  I  will  see  what  I 
can  do." 

Dinah  gave  him  a  difficult  smile.  "You  always  put 
things  right,"  she  said. 

He  lifted  his  shoulders  with  a  whimsical  expression. 
"The  magnifying-glass  again!"  he  said. 

" No, "  she  protested.     "No.     I  see  you  as  you  are. " 

"Then  you  see  a  very  ordinary  citizen,  "  he  said. 

But  Dinah  shook  her  head.  "A  knight  in  disguise, "  she 
said. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE  MOUNTAIN   SIDE 

WHEN  Isabel  opened  her  eyes  after  a  slumber  that  had 
lasted  for  the  greater  part  of  the  day,  it  was  to  find 
Scott  seated  beside  her  quietly  watching  her. 

She  reached  a  feeble  hand  to  him  with  a  smile  of  welcome. 
"Dear  Stumpy,  when  did  you  come?" 

"An  hour  or  two  ago,  "  he  said,  and  put  the  weak  hand  to 
his  lips.  "You  have  had  a  good  sleep,  dear  ? " 

"Yes,"  she  said.  "Yes.  It  has  done  me  good."  She 
lay  looking  at  him  with  a  smile  still  in  her  eyes.  "I  hope 
little  Dinah  is  resting,  "  she  said.  "She  was  with  me  nearly 
all  night.  I  didn't  wish  it,  Stumpy,  but  the  dear  child 
wouldn't  leave  till  I  was  more  comfortable." 

"She  is  resting  for  a  little  now,"  he  said.  "I  am  so 
sorry  you  had  a  bad  time  last  night. " 

"Oh,  don't  be  sorry  for  me!"  she  said  softly.  "My  bad 
times  are  so  nearly  over  now.  It  is  waste  of  time  to  talk 
about  them.  She  sent  for  you,  did  she? " 

He  bent  his  head.  "She  knew  I  would  wish  to  be  sent 
for.  She  fancied  you  might  be  wanting  me." 

"  I  do  want  you, "  she  said,  and  into  her  wasted  face  there 
came  a  look  of  unutterable  tenderness.  "Oh,  Stumpy 
darling,  need  you  leave  me  again?" 

He  was  still  holding  her  hand;  his  fingers  closed  upon  it 
at  her  words. 

"I  think  the  last  part  may  be — a  little  steep,"  she  said 

455 


456  Greatheart 

wistfully.  "  I  would  like  to  feel  that  you  are  near  at  hand. 
You  have  helped  me  so  often — so  often.  And  then  too — 
there  is — my  little  Dinah.  I  want  you  to  help  her  too." 

"God  knows  I  will  do  my  best,  dear, "  he  said. 

Her  fingers  returned  his  pressure.  "She  has  been  so 
much  to  me — so  much  to  me,"  she  whispered.  "When  I 
came  here,  I  had  no  hope.  But  the  care  of  her,  the  comfort- 
ing of  her,  opened  the  dungeon-door  for  me.  And  now  no 
Giant  Despair  will  ever  hold  me  captive  again.  But  I  am 
anxious  about  her,  Stumpy.  There  is  some  trouble  in  the 
background  of  which  she  has  never  spoken — of  which  she 
can  never  bear  to  speak.  Have  you  any  idea  what  it  is?" 

He  moved  with  an  .unwonted  touch  of  restlessness.  "I 
think  she  worries  about  the  future, "  he  said. 

"That  isn't  all,"  Isabel  said  with  conviction.  "There 
is  more  than  that.  It  hangs  over  her  like  a  cloud.  It 
weighs  her  down. " 

"She  hasn't  confided  in  me, "  he  said. 

"Ah!  But  perhaps  she  will,"  Isabel's  eyes  still  dwelt 
upon  him  with  a  great  tenderness.  "Stumpy,"  she  mur- 
mured under  her  breath,  "forgive  me  for  asking!  I  must 
ask!  Stumpy,  why  don't  you  win  her  for  yourself,  dear? 
The  way  is  open.  I  know — I  know  you  can. " 

He  moved  again,  moved  with  a  gesture  of  protest. 
"You  are  mistaken,  Isabel,"  he  said.  "The  way  is  not 
open."  He  spoke  wearily.  He  was  looking  straight  before 
him.  "If  I  were  to  attempt  what  you  suggest,"  he  said 
slowly,  "  I  should  deprive  her  of  the  only  friend  to  whom  she 
can  turn  with  any  confidence  besides  yourself.  She  trusts 
me  now  implicitly.  She  believes  my  friendship  for  her  to  be 
absolutely  simple  and  disinterested.  And  I  would  rather 
die  than  fail  her." 

"Then  you  think  she  doesn't  care?"  Isabel  said. 

Scott  turned  his  eyes  upon  her.  "Personally,  I  came  to 
that  conclusion  long  ago,"  he  said.  "No  woman  could 


The  Mountain  Side  457 

ever  hang  a  serious  romance  around  me,  Isabel.  I  am  not 
the  right  sort.  If  Dinah  imagined  for  a  moment  that  I  were 
capable  of  making  love  in  the  ordinary  way,  our  friendship 
would  go  to  the  bottom  forthwith.  No,  my  dear;  put  the 
thought  out  of  your  mind!  The  Stumpys  of  this  world 
must  be  resigned  to  go  unpaired.  They  must  content 
themselves  with  the  outer  husk.  It's  that  or  nothing." 

Isabel's  smile  was  full  of  tenderness.  "You  talk  as  one 
who  knows, "  she  said.  "But  I  wonder  if  you  do. " 

"Oh  yes,"  Scott  said.  "I've  learned  my  lesson.  I've 
been  given  an  ordinary  soul  in  an  extraordinary  body,  and 
I've  got  to  make  the  best  of  it.  You  can't  ignore  the  body, 
you  know,  Isabel.  It  plays  a  mighty  big  part  in  this  mortal 
life.  The  idea  of  any  woman  falling  in  love  with  me  in  my 
present  human  tenement  is  ridiculous,  and  I  have  put  it  out 
of  my  mind  for  good. " 

Isabel's  eyes  were  shining.  She  clasped  his  hand  closer. 
"I  think  you  are  quite  wrong,  Stumpy  dear,"  she  said. 
"If  your  soul  matched  your  body,  then  there  might  be 
something  in  your  argument.  But  it  doesn't.  And — if 
you  don't  mind  my  saying  so — your  soul  is  far  the  most 
extraordinary  part  of  your  personality.  Little  Dinah  found 
out  long  ago  that  you  were — great-hearted." 

Scott  smiled  a  little.  "Oh  yes,  I  know  she  views  me 
through  a  magnifying-glass  and  reveres  me  accordingly. 
Hence  our  friendship.  But,  my  dear,  that  isn't  being  in 
love.  I  believe  that  somewhere  there  is  a  shadowy  person 
whom  she  cherishes  in  the  very  inner  secrecy  of  her  heart. 
Who  he  is  or  what  he  is,  I  don't  know.  He  is  probably 
something  very  different  from  the  dream-being  she  wor- 
ships. We  all  are.  But  I  feel  that  he  is  there.  Probably 
I  have  never  met  the  actual  man.  I  have  only  seen  his 
shadow  and  that  by  inadvertence.  I  once  penetrated  the 
secret  chamber  for  one  moment  only,  and  then  I  was  driven 
forth  and  the  door  securely  locked.  I  am  not  good  at 


45$  Greatheart 

trespassing,  you  know,  for  all  my  greatness.  I  have  never 
been  near  the  secret  chamber  since." 

' '  Do  you  mean  that  she  admitted  to  you  that — she  cared 
for  someone?"  Isabel  asked. 

Scott's  pale  eyes  had  a  quizzical  look.  "I  had  the 
consideration  to  back  out  before  she  had  time  to  do  any- 
thing so  unmaidenly, "  he  said.  "Possibly  the  shadow- 
man  may  never  materialize.  In  fact  it  seems  more  than 
possible.  In  which  case  the  least  said  is  soonest  mended. " 

"That  may  be  what  is  troubling  her,"  Isabel  said 
thoughtfully. 

She  lay  still  for  a  while,  and  Scott  leaned  back  in  his  chair 
and  watched  the  little  pleasure-boats  that  skimmed  the 
waters  of  the  bay.  The  merry  cries  of  bathers  came  up 
to  the  quiet  room.  The  world  was  full  to  the  brim  of  gaiety 
and  sunshine  on  that  hot  June  day. 

"Stumpy,"  gently  his  sister's  voice  recalled  him,  "do 
you  never  mean  to  marry,  dear?  I  wish  you  would.  You 
will  be  so  lonely." 

He  lifted  his  shoulders.  "What  can  I  say  Isabel?  If 
the  right  woman  comes  along  and  proposes,  I  will  marry  her 
with  pleasure.  I  would  never  dare  to  propose  on  my  own, 
— being  what  I  am. " 

"Being  a  very  perfect  knight  whom  any  woman  might  be 
proud  to  marry,"  Isabel  said.  "That  is  only  a  pose  of 
yours,  Stumpy,  and  it  doesn't  become  you.  I  wonder 
— how  I  wonder! — if  you  are  right  about  Dinah. " 

"Yes,  I  am  right,"  he  said  with  conviction.  "But 
Isabel,  you  will  remember — it  was  spoken  in  confidence." 

She  gave  a  sharp  sigh.  "I  shall  remember  dear, "  she 
said. 

Again  a  brief  silence  fell  between  them;  but  Scott's  eye 
no  longer  sought  the  sparkling  water.  They  dwelt  upon 
his  sister's  face.  Pale  as  alabaster,  clear-cut  as  though 
carven  with  a  chisel,  it  rested  upon  the  white  pillow,  and  the 


The  Mountain  Side  459 

stamp  of  a  great  peace  lay  upon  the  calm  forehead  and  in 
the  quiet  of  the  deeply-sunken  eyes.  There  were  lines  of 
suffering  that  yet  lingered  about  the  mouth,  lines  of  weari- 
ness and  of  sorrow,  but  the  old  piteous  look  of  craving  had 
faded  quite  away.  The  bitter  despair  that  had  so  haunted 
Dinah  had  passed  into  the  stillness  of  a  great  patience. 
There  was  about  her  at  that  time  the  sacred  hush  that  falls 
before  the  dawn. 

After  a  little  she  became  aware  of  his  quiet  regard,  and 
turned  her  head  with  a  smile.  "Well,  Stumpy?  What  is 
it?" 

"I  was  just  wondering  what  had  happened  to  you,"  he 
made  answer. 

Her  smile  deepened.  "I  will  tell  you,  dear,"  she  said. 
"I  have  come  within  sight  of  the  mountain-top  at  last." 

"  And  you  are  satisfied?"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

Her  eyes  shone  with  a  soft  brightness  that  seemed  to 
illumine  her  whole  face.  "Satisfied  that  my  beloved  is 
waiting  for  me  and  that  I  shall  meet  him  in  the  dawning?" 
she  said.  "Oh  yes,  I  have  known  that  in  my  heart  fora 
long  time.  It  troubled  me  terribly  when  I  lost  his  letters. 
They  had  been  such  a  link,  and  for  a  while  I  was  in  outer 
darkness.  And  then — by  degrees,  after  little  Dinah  came 
back  to  me — I  began  to  find  that  after  all  there  were 
other  links.  Helping  her  in  her  trouble  helped  me  to  bear 
my  own.  And  I  came  to  see  that  ministering  to  a  need  out- 
side one's  own  is  the  surest  means  of  finding  comfort  in 
sorrow  for  oneself.  I  have  been  very  selfish  Stumpy.  I 
have  been  gradually  waking  to  that  fact  for  a  long  while.  I 
used  to  immerse  myself  in  those  letters  to  try  and  get  the 
feeling  of  his  dear  presence.  Very,  very  often  I  didn't 
succeed.  And  I  know  now  that  it  was  because  I  was  forcing 
myself  to  look  back  and  not  forward.  I  think  material 
things  are  apt  to  make  one  do  that.  But  when  material 
things  are  taken  quite  away,  then  one  is  forced  upon  the 


460  Greatheart 

spiritual.  And  that  is  what  has  happened  to  me.  No  one 
can  take  anything  from  me  now  because  what  I  possess 
is  laid  up  in  store  for  me.  I  am  moving  forward  towards  it 
every  day." 

She  ceased  to  speak,  and  again  for  the  space  of  seconds 
the  silence  fell. 

Scott  broke  it,  speaking  slowly,  as  if  not  wholly  certain 
of  the  wisdom  of  speech.  "  I  did  not  know, "  he  said,  "that 
you  had  lost  those  letters." 

Her  face  contracted  momentarily  with  the  memory 
of  a  past  pain.  "Eustace  destroyed  them,"  she  stated 
simply. 

His  brows  drew  sharply  together.  "Isabel!  Do  you 
mean  that?" 

She  pressed  his  hand.  "Yes,  dear.  I  knew  you  would 
feel  it  badly  so  I  didn't  tell  you  before.  He  acted  for  the 
best.  I  see  that  quite  clearly  now.  And — in  a  sense — the 
best  has  come  of  it. " 

Scott  got  to  his  feet  with  the  gesture  of  a  man  who  can 
barely  restrain  himself.  "He  did — that?"  he  said. 

She  reached  up  a  soothing  hand.  "My  dear,  it  doesn't 
matter  now.  Don't  be  angry  with  him.  I  know  that  he 
meant  well." 

Scott's  eyes  looked  down  into  hers,  intensely  bright, 
burningly  alive.  "No  wonder, "  he  said,  breathing  deeply, 
"that  you  never  want  to  see  him  again!" 

' '  No,  Stumpy ;  that  is  not  so. "  Gently  she  made  answer ; 
her  hand  held  his  almost  pleadingly.  "For  a  long  time  I 
felt  like  that,  it  is  true.  But  now  it  is  all  over.  There  is  no 
bitterness  left  in  my  heart  at  all.  We  have  grown  away 
from  each  other,  he  and  I.  But  we  were  very  close  friends 
once,  and  because  of  that  I  would  give  much — oh,  very 
much — to  be  friends  with  him  again.  It  was  in  a  very  great 
measure  my  selfishness  that  came  between  us,  my  pride  too. 
I  had  influence  with  him,  Stumpy,  and  I  didn't  try  to  use 


The  Mountain  Side  461 

it.  I  simply  threw  him  off  because  he  disapproved  of  my 
husband.  I  might  have  won  him,  I  feel  that  I  could  have 
won  him  if  I  had  tried.  But  I  wouldn't.  And  afterwards, 
when  my  mind  was  clouded,  my  influence  was  all  gone.  I 
wish  I  could  get  it  back  again.  I  feel  as  if  I  might.  But  he 
is  keeping  away  now  because  of  Dinah.  And  I  am  afraid 
too  that  he  feels  I  do  not  want  him — "  her  eyes  were 
suddenly  dim  with  tears.  "That  is  not  so,  Stumpy.  I 
do  want  him.  Sometimes — in  the  night — I  long  for  him. 
But,  for  little  Dinah's  sake " 

She  paused,  for  Scott  had  suddenly  turned  and  was  pac- 
ing the  room  rapidly,  unevenly,  as  if  inaction  had  become 
unendurable. 

She  lay  and  watched  him  while  the  great  tears  gathered 
and  ran  down  her  wasted  face. 

He  came  back  to  her  at  length  and  saw  them.  He  stood 
a  moment  looking  downwards,  then  knelt  beside  her  and 
very  tenderly  wiped  them  away. 

"My  dear, "  he  said  softly,  "you  mustn't  ever  cry  again. 
It  breaks  my  heart  to  see  you.  If  you  want  Eustace,  he 
shall  come  to  you.  Dinah  was  speaking  to  me  about  it 
only  a  short  time  ago.  She  will  not  stand  in  the  way  of  his 
coming.  In  fact,  I  gathered  that  if  you  wish  it,  she  wishes 
it  also. " 

"That  is  so  like  little  Dinah,"  whispered  Isabel.  "But, 
Stumpy,  do  you  think  we  ought  to  let  her  face  that?" 

"  I  shall  be  here, "  he  said. 

"Oh,  yes,  dear.  You  will  be  here."  She  regarded  him 
wistfully.  "Stumpy,  don't — don't  let  yourself  get  bitter 
against  Eustace!"  she  pleaded.  "You  have  always  been 
so  splendid,  so  forbearing,  till  now." 

Scott's  lips  were  stern.  "Some  things  are  hard  to  for- 
give, Isabel, "  he  said. 

"But  if  I  forgive —  "  she  said. 

His  face  changed;  he  bowed  his  head  suddenly  down 


462  Greatheart 

upon  her  pillow.  "Nothing  will  give  you  back  to  me — 
when  you  are  gone, "  he  whispered. 

Her  hand  was  on  his  head  in  a  moment.  "Oh,  my  dear, 
are  you  grieving  because  of  that  ?  And  I  have  been  such  a 
burden  to  you!" 

"A  burden  beloved,"  he  said,  speaking  with  difficulty. 
"And  you  were  getting  better.  You  were  better.  He — 
threw  you  back  again.  He  brought  you — to  this." 

Her  fingers  pressed  his  forehead.  ' '  Not  entirely,  Stumpy. 
Be  generous,  dear!  It  may  have  hastened  matters  a  little 
— only  a  very  little.  And  even  so,  what  of  it,  if  the  journey 
has  been  shortened?  Perhaps  the  way  has  been  a  little 
steeper,  but  it  has  brought  me  more  quickly  to  my  goal. 
Stumpy,  Stumpy,  if  it  weren't  for  leaving  you,  I  would  go  as 
gladly — as  gladly — as  a  happy  bride — to  her  wedding. " 

She  broke  off,  breathing  fast. 

He  lifted  his  head  swiftly,  and  saw  the  shadow  of  mortal 
pain  gathering  in  her  eyes.  He  commanded  himself  on  the 
instant  and  rose.  Self-contained  and  steady,  he  found  and 
administered  the  remedy  that  was  always  kept  at  hand. 

Then,  as  the  spasm  passed,  he  stooped  and  quietly  kissed 
the  white  forehead.  "Don't  trouble  about  me,  dear!"  he 
said.  "God  knows  I  would  not  keep  you  from  your  rest. " 

And  with  that  calmly  he  turned  and  left  her. 

But  Biddy,  whom  he  sought  a  few  moments  later  to  send 
her  to  her  mistress,  saw  in  him  notwithstanding  his  com- 
posure, an  intensity  of  suffering  that  struck  dismay  to  her 
honest  heart.  "The  Lord  preserve  us!"  she  said.  "But 
Master  Scott  has  the  look  of  a  man  with  a  sword  in  his  soul ! " 
She  wiped  her  own  tears  away  with  a  trembling  hand. 
"And  what'll  he  do  at  all  when  Miss  Isabel's  gone,"  she 
said,  "unless  Miss  Dinah  does  the  comforting  of  him?" 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE  TRUSTY   FRIEND 

'""PHE  trains  from  the  junction  to  Heath-on-Sea  were 
1  few  and  invariably  late.  Scott  had  been  pacing 
the  platform  for  half  an  hour  on  the  evening  of  the  day  that 
followed  his  own  arrival  ere  a  line  of  distant  smoke  told  of 
the  coming  of  the  train  he  was  awaiting. 

His  movements  were  slow  and  weary,  but  there  was 
about  him  the  strained  look  of  a  man  who  cannot  rest. 
There  was  no  gladness  of  welcome  in  his  eyes  as  the  train 
drew  near.  It  was  rather  as  if  he  braced  himself  for  a 
coming  ordeal. 

He  searched  the  carriages  intently  as  they  ran  past  him, 
and  a  flicker  of  recognition  came  into  his  face  at  the  sight  of 
a  tall  figure  leaning  from  one  of  them.  He  lifted  a  hand  in 
salutation,  and  limped  along  the  platform  to  meet  the  new- 
comer. 

Sir  Eustace  was  out  of  the  train  before  anyone  else.  He 
met  his  brother  with  the  impetuosity  of  one  who  cannot  stop 
for  greeting. 

"Ah,  Stumpy!     I'm  not  too  late?" 

There  was  strain  upon  his  face  also  as  he  flung  the  ques- 
tion, and  in  an  instant  Scott's  look  had  changed.  He 
grasped  the  outflung  hand. 

"No,  no,  old  fellow!  It's  all  right.  She  is  looking 
forward  to  seeing  you. " 

Sir  Eustace  drew  a  sharp  breath.  His  dark  face  relaxed 
a  little.  "  I've  had  a  hell  of  a  time, "  he  said. 

463 


464  Greatheart 

"My  dear  chap,  I'm  sorry,"  impulsively  Scott  made 
answer.  "I'd  have  met  you  at  the  junction,  only  it  was 
difficult  to  get  away  for  so  long.  Do  you  mind  walking  up  ? 
They'll  see  to  fetching  your  traps  along  presently. " 

"Oh,  all  right.  Yes,  let  us  walk  by  all  means ! "  Eustace 
expanded  his  chest,  and  breathed  again,  deeply.  He  put 
his  hand  on  Scott's  shoulder  as  they  passed  through  the 
barrier.  "What's  the  matter  with  you,  my  lad?"  he  said. 

Scott  glanced  up  at  him — a  swift,  surprised  glance. 
"With  me?  Nothing.  I  am — as  usual." 

Eustace's  hawk-eyes  scanned  him  closely.  "I've  never 
seen  you  look  worse, "  he  said. 

Scott  raised  his  shoulder  slightly  under  his  hand,  and 
said  nothing.  The  first  involuntary  kindliness  of  greeting 
passed  wholly  away,  as  if  it  had  not  been. 

Eustace  linked  the  hand  in  his  arm  as  they  walked. 
"Tell  me  about  her ! "  he  said. 

"About  Isabel?"  Scott  spoke  with  very  obvious  con- 
straint. "There  isn't  much  to  tell.  She  is  just — going. 
These  breathless  attacks  come  very  frequently,  and  she  is 
weaker  after  each  one.  The  doctor  says  it  would  not  be 
surprising  if  she  went  in  her  sleep,  or  in  fact  at  any  time. " 

"And  she  asked  for  me?"  The  question  fell  curtly; 
Eustace  was  looking  straight  ahead  up  the  white,  dusty 
road  as  he  uttered  it. 

"Yes;  she  wanted  you."  Equally  curtly  came  Scott's 
reply.  He  ignored  the  hand  on  his  arm,  limping  forward 
at  his  own  pace  and  leaving  his  brother  to  accommodate 
himself  to  it  as  best  he  could. 

Sir  Eustace  sauntered  beside  him  in  silence  for  a  space. 
They  were  approaching  the  heath-clad  common  that  gave 
the  place  its  name,  when  he  spoke  again. 

"And  Dinah?"  he  said  then. 

Again  Scott  glanced  upwards,  his  pale  eyes  very  resolute. 
"Yes,  Dinah  is  still  here.  Her  people  seem  quite  indifferent 


The  Trusty  Friend  465 

as  to  what  becomes  of  her,  and  Isabel  wishes  to  keep  her 
with  her.  I  hope — "  he  hesitated  momentarily — "I  hope 
you  will  bear  in  mind  the  extreme  difficulty  of  her  situ- 
ation." 

Sir  Eustace  passed  over  the  low  words.  "And  what  is 
going  to  happen  to  her — afterwards? "  he  said. 

"Heaven  knows!"  Scott  spoke  as  one  compelled. 

Sir  Eustace  continued  to  gaze  straight  before  him. 
"Haven't  you  thought  of  any  solution  to  the  difficulty?" 
he  asked. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  Scott's  voice  rang  suddenly  stern. 

A  faint  smile  touched  his  brother's  face;  it  was  like  the 
shadow  of  his  old,  supercilious  sneer.  "It  occurred  to  me 
that  you,  being  a  chivalrous  knight,  might  be  moved  to  offer 
her  your  protection,  "  he  explained  coolly.  "You  are  quite 
at  liberty  to  do  so,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  I  give  you 
my  free  consent. " 

Scott  started,  as  if  he  had  been  stung.  "Man,  don't 
sneer  at  me!"  he  said  in  a  voice  that  quivered.  "I've  a 
good  many  things  against  you,  and  I'm  damned  if  I  can 
stand  any  more!" 

There  was  desperation  in  his  words.  Sir  Eustace's 
brows  went  up,  and  his  smile  departed.  But  there  came 
no  answering  anger  in  his  eyes. 

He  was  silent  for  several  moments,  pacing  forward,  his 
hand  no  longer  linked  in  Scott's  arm.  Then  at  last  very 
quietly  he  spoke.  "You're  right.  You  have  a  good  many 
things  against  me.  But  this  is  not  one  of  them.  I  was  not 
sneering  at  you. " 

There  was  a  note  of  most  unwonted  sincerity  in  his 
voice  that  gave  conviction  to  his  words.  Scott  turned 
and  regarded  him  in  open  amazement. 

The  steel-blue  eyes  met  his  with  an  odd,  half-shamed 
expression.  "You  mustn't  bully  me,  you  know,  Stumpy!" 
he  said.  "Remember,  I  can't  hit  back." 

30 


466  Greatheart 

Scott  stood  still.  He  had  never  in  his  life  been  more 
astounded.  Even  then,  with  the  direct  evidence  before  him, 
he  could  hardly  believe  that  the  old  haughty  dominance  had 
given  place  to  something  different. 

"Why — can't  you — hit  back?"  he  said,  almost  stammer- 
ing in  his  uncertainty. 

Sir  Eustace  smiled  again  with  rueful  irony.  "Because 
I've  nothing  to  hit  with,  my  son.  Because  you  can  break 
through  my  defence  every  time.  If  I  were  to  kick  you 
from  here  to  the  sea,  you'd  still  have  the  best  of  me. 
Haven't  you  realized  that  yet?" 

"I  hadn't — no!"  Scott's  eyes  still  regarded  him  with 
a  puzzled,  half -suspicious  expression. 

Sir  Eustace  turned  from  their  scrutiny,  and  began  to 
walk  on.  "You  will  presently, "  he  said.  "The  man  who 
masters  himself  is  always  the  man  to  master  the  rest  of 
the  world  in  the  end.  I  never  thought  I  should  live  to 
envy  you,  my  boy.  But  I  do. " 

"Envy  me!  Why?  Why  on  earth?"  Embarrassment 
mingled  with  the  curiosity  in  Scott's  voice.  His  hostility 
had  gone  down  utterly  before  the  unaccustomed  humility 
of  his  brother's  attitude. 

Sir  Eustace  glanced  at  him  sideways.  "I'll  tell  you 
another  time, ' '  he  said.  ' '  Now  look  here,  Stumpy !  You're 
in  command,  and  I  shan't  interfere  with  you  so  long  as  you 
take  reasonable  care  of  yourself.  But  you  must  do  that. 
It  is  the  one  thing  I  am  going  to  insist  upon.  That's  under- 
stood, is  it?" 

Scott  smiled,  his  tired,  gentle  smile.  "Oh,  certainly, 
my  dear  chap.  Don't  you  worry  yourself  about  that! 
It  isn't  of  the  first  importance  in  any  case. " 

"It's  got  to  be  done,"  Sir  Eustace  insisted.  "So  keep 
it  in  mind!" 

"I  haven't  been  doing  anything,  you  know,"  Scott  pro- 
tested mildly.  "I  only  came  down  yesterday." 


The  Trusty  Friend  467 

"That  may  be.  But  you  haven't  been  sleeping  for  some 
time.  You  needn't  trouble  to  deny  it.  I  know  the  signs. 
What  have  you  been  doing  at  Willowmount  ? " 

It  was  a  welcome  change  of  subject,  and  Scott  was  not 
slow  to  avail  himself  of  it.  They  began  to  talk  upon 
matters  connected  with  the  estate,  and  the  personal  element 
passed  completely  out  of  the  conversation. 

When  they  reached  the  white  house  on  the  cliff  they 
almost  seemed  to  have  slipped  into  the  old  casual  relations ; 
but  the  younger  brother  was  well  aware  that  this  was  not 
so.  The  change  that  had  so  amazed  him  was  apparent 
to  him  at  every  turn.  The  overbearing  mastery  to  which 
he  had  been  accustomed  all  his  life  had  turned  in  some 
miraculous  fashion  into  something  that  was  oddly  like 
deference.  It  was  fully  evident  that  Eustace  meant  to 
keep  his  word  and  leave  him  in  command. 

Dinah  met  them  in  the  rose-twined  portico.  There  was  a 
deep  flush  in  her  cheeks;  her  eyes  were  very  bright,  reso- 
lutely unafraid.  She  shook  hands  with  Eustace,  and  he 
alone  was  aware  of  the  tremor  that  ran  through  her  whole 
being  as  she  did  so. 

"Isabel  is  asleep,"  she  said.  "She  often  gets  a  sleep 
in  the  afternoon,  and  she  is  always  the  stronger  for  it  when 
she  wakes.  Will  you  have  some  tea  before  you  go  to  her  ? " 

They  had  tea  in  the  sunny  verandah  overlooking  the  sea. 
Sir  Eustace  was  very  quiet  and  grave,  and  it  was  Scott 
who  gently  conversed  with  the  girl,  smoothing  away  all 
difficulties.  She  was  plainly  determined  to  conquer  her 
nervousness,  and  she  succeeded  to  a  great  extent  before  the 
ordeal  was  over.  But  there  was  obvious  relief  in  her  eyes 
when  Sir  Eustace  set  down  his  cup  and  rose  to  go. 

"I  think  I  will  go  to  her  now,"  he  said.  "I  shall  not 
wake  her." 

He  went,  and  a  great  stillness  fell  behind  him.  Scott 
dropped  into  silence,  and  they  sat  together,  he  smoking,  she 


468  Greatheart 

leaning  back  in  her  chair  idle,  with  wistful  eyes  upon  the 
silvery  sea. 

Up  in  Isabel's  room  overhead  there  was  neither  sound 
nor  movement,  but  presently  there  fell  a  soft  footfall  upon 
the  stairs  and  the  nurse  came  quietly  through  and  spoke 
to  Dinah. 

"Mrs.  Everard  is  still  asleep.  Her  brother  is  watching 
her  and  Biddy  is  within  call.  I  thought  I  would  take  a  little 
walk  on  the  shore,  as  I  shall  not  be  wanted  just  at  present. " 

"Oh,  of  course,  "  Dinah  said.      "  Don't  hurry  back!" 

The  nurse  smiled  and  flitted  away  into  the  golden  even- 
ing sunlight. 

Dinah  turned  her  head  towards  her  silent  companion. 
"I  wonder,"  she  said,  "if  I  could  learn  to  be  a  nurse." 

He  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke  into  the  air.  "Are  you  still 
worrying  about  the  future?"  he  said. 

"I  don't  know  that  I  am  exactly  worrying,"  she  made 
low  reply.  "But  I  shall  have  to  decide  about  it  very 
soon. " 

Scott  was  silent  for  a  space  while  he  finished  his  cigarette. 
Then  at  last  slowly,  haltingly,  he  spoke.  "Dinah, — I  have 
been  thinking  about  the  future  too.  If  I  touch  upon  any- 
thing that  hurts  you,  you  must  stop  me,  and  I  will  not  say 
another  word.  But,  child,  it  seems  to  me  that  we  shall 
both  be — rather  lost — when  Isabel  is  gone.  I  wonder — 
would  it  shock  you  very  much — if  I  suggested  to  you — as  a 
solution  of  the  difficulty — that  we  should  some  day  in  the 
future  enter  into  partnership  together?" 

He  spoke  with  obvious  effort;  his  hands  were  gripped 
upon  the  arms  of  his  chair.  The  wicker  creaked  in  the 
strain  of  his  grasp,  but  he  himself  remained  lying  back  with 
eyes  half-closed  in  compulsory  inaction. 

Dinah  also  sat  absolutely  still.  If  his  words  amazed  her, 
she  gave  no  sign.  Only  the  wistfulness  about  her  mouth 
deepened  as  she  made  answer  below  her  breath.  "  It — is 


The  Trusty  Friend  469 

just  like  you  to  suggest  such  a  thing;  but — it  is  quite 
impossible." 

He  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  at  her  very  steadily  and 
kindly.  ' '  Quite  ? "  he  said. 

She  bent  her  head,  swiftly  lowering  her  own.  "Yes — 
thank  you  a  million  times — quite. " 

"Even  if  I  promise  never  to  make  love  to  you?"  he  said, 
his  voice  half -quizzical,  half -tender. 

She  put  out  a  trembling  hand  and  laid  it  on  his  arm. 
"Oh,  Scott,— it— isn't  that!" 

He  took  the  hand  and  held  it.  "My  dear,  don't  cry!" 
he  urged  gently.  "I  knew  you  wouldn't  have  me  really. 
I  only  thought  I  would  just  place  myself  completely  at  your 
disposal  in  case — some  day — you  might  be  willing  to  give 
me  the  chance  to  serve  you  in  any  capacity  whatever. 
There!  It  is  over.  We  are  as  we  were — friends." 

He  smiled  at  her  with  the  words,  and  after  a  moment 
stooped  and  lightly  touched  her  fingers  with  his  lips. 

"Come!"  he  said  gently.  "I  haven't  frightened  you 
anyway.  Have  I?" 

"No, "  she  whispered. 

His  hand  clasped  hers  for  a  second  or  two  longer,  then 
quietly  let  it  go.  "Don't  be  distressed!"  he  said,  "I  will 
never  do  it  again.  I  am  now — and  always — your  trusty 
friend." 

And  with  that  he  rose  in  his  slow  way,  paused  to  light 
another  cigarette,  smiled  again  upon  her,  and  softly  went 
indoors. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE    LAST    SUMMONS 

HPHERE  is  nought  in  life  more  solemn  than  the  waiting 
A  hush  that  falls  before  the  coming  of  that  great 
Change  which  men  call  Death.  And  it  is  to  the  watchers 
rather  than  to  the  passing  soul  itself  that  the  wonder  seems 
to  draw  most  close.  To  stand  before  the  veil,  to  know  that 
very  soon  it  must  be  lifted  for  the  loved  one  to  pass  beyond, 
to  wait  for  the  glimpse  of  that  spirit-world  from  which  only 
the  frail  wall  of  mortality  divides  even  the  least  spiritual, 
to  watch  as  it  were  for  the  Gate  of  Death  to  open  and  the 
great  Revelation  to  flash  for  one  blinding  moment  upon 
the  dazzled  eyes  that  may  not  grasp  the  meaning  of  what 
they  see ;  this  is  to  stand  for  a  space  within  the  very  Sanctu- 
ary of  God. 

The  awe  of  it  and  the  wonder  hung  night  and  day  over 
the  little  rose-covered  house  on  the  heath  above  the  sea 
where  Isabel  was  breathing  forth  the  last  of  her  broken 
earthly  life.  Dinah  moved  in  that  strange  atmosphere  as 
one  in  a  dream.  She  spent  most  of  her  time  with  Scott  in  a 
silent  companionship  in  which  no  worldly  thoughts  seemed 
to  have  any  part.  The  things  of  earth,  all  worry,  all  dis- 
tress, were  in  abeyance,  had  sunk  to  such  infinitesimal 
proportions  that  she  was  scarcely  aware  of  them  at  all. 
It  was  as  though  they  had  climbed  the  steep  mountain 
with  Isabel,  and  not  till  they  turned  again  to  descend 
could  they  be  aware  of  those  things  which  lay  so  far  below. 

470 


The  Last  Summons  471 

Without  Scott,  both  doubts  and  fears  would  have  been 
her  portion,  but  with  him  all  terrors  fell  shadow-like  away 
before  her.  She  hardly  realized  all  that  his  presence  meant 
to  her  during  those  days  of  waiting,  but  she  leaned  upon 
him  instinctively  as  upon  a  sure  support.  He  never  failed 
her. 

Of  Eustace  she  saw  but  little.  From  the  very  first  it  was 
evident  that  his  place  was  nearer  to  Isabel  than  Scott's 
had  ever  been.  He  did  not  shoulder  Scott  aside,  but  some- 
how as  a  matter  of  course  he  occupied  the  position  that  the 
younger  brother  had  sought  to  fill  for  the  past  seven  years. 
It  was  natural,  it  was  inevitable.  Dinah  could  have 
resented  this  superseding  at  the  outset  had  she  not  seen  how 
gladly  Scott  gave  place.  Later  she  realized  that  the  ground 
on  which  they  stood  was  too  holy  for  such  considerations  to 
have  any  weight  with  either  brother.  They  were  united 
in  the  one  supreme  effort  to  make  the  way  smooth  for  the 
sister  who  meant  so  much  to  them  both ;  and  during  all  those 
days  of  waiting  Dinah  never  heard  a  harsh  or  impatient 
word  upon  the  elder's  lips.  All  arrogance,  all  hardness, 
seemed  to  have  fallen  away  from  him  as  he  trod  with  them 
that  mountain-path.  Even  old  Biddy  realized  the  change 
and  relented  somewhat  towards  him  though  she  never 
wholly  brought  herself  to  look  upon  him  as  an  ally. 

It  was  on  a  stormy  evening  at  the  beginning  of  July  that 
Dinah  was  sitting  alone  in  the  little  creeper-grown  veran- 
dah watching  the  wonderful  greens  and  purples  of  the 
sea  when  Eustace  came  soft -footed  through  the  window 
behind  her  and  sat  down  in  a  chair  close  by,  which  Scott 
had  vacated  a  few  minutes  before. 

Scott  had  just  gone  to  the  village  post-office  with  some 
letters,  but  she  had  refused  to  accompany  him,  for  it  was 
the  hour  when  she  usually  sat  with  Isabel.  She  glanced  at 
Eustace  swiftly  as  he  sat  down,  half-expecting  a  message 
from  the  sick-room.  But  he  said  nothing,  merely  leaning 


472  Greatheart 

back  in  the  wicker-chair,  and  fixing  his  eyes  upon  the  sombre 
splendour  of  endless  waters  upon  which  hers  had  been 
resting.  There  was  a  massive  look  about  him,  as  of  a  strong 
man  deliberately  bent  to  some  gigantic  task.  A  little 
tremor  went  through  her  as  furtively  she  watched  him. 
His  silence,  unlike  the  silences  of  Scott,  was  disquieting. 
She  could  never  feel  wholly  at  ease  in  his  presence. 

He  turned  his  head  towards  her  after  a  few  seconds  of 
absolute  stillness,  and  in  a  moment  her  eyes  sank.  She 
sat  in  palpitating  silence,  as  one  caught  in  some  disgraceful 
act. 

But  still  he  did  not  speak,  and  the  painful  colour  flooded 
her  face  under  his  mute  scrutiny  till  in  sheer  distress  she 
found  herself  forced  to  take  the  initiative. 

"Is — Isabel  expecting  me?"  she  faltered.  "Ought  I  to 
go?" 

" No,  "  he  said  quietly.  "She  is  dozing.  Old  Biddy  is 
with  her. " 

It  seemed  as  if  the  intolerable  silence  were  about  to  fall 
again.  She  cast  about  desperately  for  a  means  of  escape. 
"Biddy  was  up  and  down  during  the  night.  I  think  I  will 
relieve  her  for  a  little  while  and  let  her  rest. " 

She  would  have  risen  with  the  words,  but  unexpectedly  he 
reached  forth  a  detaining  hand.  "Do  you  mind  waiting 
a  minute?"  he  said.  "I  will  not  say — or  do — anything 
to  frighten  you. " 

He  spoke  with  a  faint  smile  that  somehow  hurt  her  almost 
unbearably.  She  remained  as  she  was,  leaning  forward  in 
her  chair.  "I — am  not  afraid,"  she  murmured  almost 
inaudibly. 

His  hand  seemed  to  plead  for  hers,  and  in  a  moment  she 
laid  her  own  within  it.  "That's  right,  "  he  said.  "Dinah, 
will  you  try  and  treat  me  as  if  I  were  a  friend — just  for  a  few 
minutes?" 

The  tone  of  his  voice — like  his  smile — pierced  her  with  a 


The  Last  Summons  473 

poignancy  that  sent  the  quick  tears  to  her  eyes.     She  forced 
them  back  with  all  her  strength. 

"I  would  like  to — always,  "  she  whispered. 

"Thank  you,  "  he  said.  "You  are  kinder  than  I  deserve. 
I  have  done  nothing  to  win  your  confidence,  so  it  is  all  the 
more  generous  of  you  to  bestow  it.  On  the  strength  of  your 
generosity  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  question  which  only  a 
friend  could  ask.  Dinah,  is  there  any  understanding  of 
any  sort — apart  from  friendship — between  you  and  Scott  ? ' ' 

She  started  slightly  at  the  question,  and  in  a  moment 
firmly,  with  a  certain  authority,  his  hand  closed  upon  hers. 

"You  needn't  be  afraid  to  speak  on  Scott's  account," 
he  said,  with  that  rather  grim  humility  that  seemed  so 
foreign  to  his  proud  nature  that  every  sign  of  it  stabbed 
her  afresh.  "I  am  not  such  a  dog  in  the  manger  as  that 
and  he  knows  it. " 

"Oh  no!"  Dinah  said,  and  her  words  came  with  a  rush. 
"But — I  told  you  before,  didn't  I? — he  doesn't  care  for 
me  like  that.  He  never  has — never  will. " 

"I  wonder  why  you  say  that,"  Eustace  said. 

"Because  it's  true!"  With  a  species  of  feverish  insist- 
ence she  answered  him.  "How  could  I  help  knowing? 
Of  course  I  know!  Oh,  please  don't  let  us  talk  about  it! 
It — it  hurts  me." 

"I  want  you  to  bear  with  me, "  he  said  gently,  "just  for 
a  few  minutes.  Dinah,  what  if  you  are  making  a  mistake? 
Mistakes  happen,  you  know.  Scott  is  a  shy  sort  of  chap, 
and  immensely  reserved.  Doesn't  it  occur  to  you  that  he 
may  care  for  you  and  yet  be  afraid — just  as  you  are  afraid — 
to  let  you  know?" 

"No, "  Dinah  said.     "He  doesn't.     I  know  he  doesn't!" 

She  spoke  with  her  eyes  upon  the  ground,  her  voice  sunk 
very  low.  She  felt  as  if  she  were  being  drawn  down  from 
the  heights  she  desired  to  tread.  She  did  not  want  to  con- 
template the  problems  that  she  knew  very  surely  awaited 


474  Greatheart 

her  upon  the  lower  level.  She  did  not  want  to  quit  her 
sanctuary  before  the  time. 

Sir  Eustace  received  her  assurance  in  silence,  but  he 
kept  her  hand  in  his,  and  the  power  of  his  personality 
seemed  to  penetrate  to  the  very  centre  of  her  being. 

He  spoke  at  last  almost  under  his  breath,  still  closely 
watching  her  downcast  face.  "Are  you  quite  sure  you  still 
care  for  him — in  that  way?" 

She  made  a  quick,  appealing  gesture.  "Oh,  need  I 
answer  that?  I  feel  so — ashamed." 

"No,  you  needn't  answer, "  he  made  steady  reply.  "But 
you've  nothing  to  be  ashamed  about.  Stumpy's  an  awful 
ass,  you  know, — always  has  been.  He's  been  head  over 
heels  in  love  with  you  ever  since  he  met  you.  No,  you 
needn't  let  that  shock  you.  He's  such  a  bashful  knight 
he'll  never  tell  you  so.  You'll  have  to  do  that  part  of  it." 
He  smiled  with  faint  irony.  "But  you  may  take  my  word 
for  it,  it  is  so.  He  has  thought  of  nothing  but  you  and  your 
happiness  from  the  very  beginning  of  things.  And — unlike 
someone  else  we  know — he  has  had  the  decency  always  to 
put  your  happiness  first. " 

He  paused.  Dinah's  eyes  had  flashed  up  to  his,  green, 
eager,  intensely  alive,  and  behind  those  eyes  her  soul  seemed 
to  be  straining  like  a  thing  in  leash.  "Oh,  I  knew  he  had 
cared  for  someone,"  she  breathed,  "But  it  couldn't — it 
couldn't  have  been  me!" 

"Yes, "  Sir  Eustace  said  slowly.  "You  and  none  other. 
You  wonder  if  it's  true — how  I  know.  He's  an  awful  ass,  as 
I  said  before,  one  of  the  few  supreme  fools  who  never  think 
of  themselves.  I  knew  that  he  was  caught  all  right  ages 
back  in  Switzerland,  and — being  a  low  hound  of  mean 
instincts — I  set  to  work  to  cut  him  out. " 

"Oh!"  murmured  Dinah.  "That  was  just  what  I  did 
with  Rose  de  Vigne. " 

His  mouth  twisted  a  little.     ' '  It's  a  funny  world,  Dinah,  " 


The  Last  Summons  475 

he  said.  "Our  little  game  has  cost  us  both  something.  I 
got  •  too  near  the  candle  myself,  and  the  scorch  was  pretty 
sharp  while  it  lasted.  Well,  to  get  back  to  my  story. 
Scott  saw  that  I  was  beginning  to  give  you  indigestion,  and 
— being  as  I  mentioned  before  several  sorts  of  a  fool — he 
tackled  me  upon  the  subject  and  swore  that  if  I  didn't  put 
an  end  to  the  game,  he  would  put  you  on  your  guard  against 
me,  tell  you  in  fact  the  precise  species  of  rotter  that  I 
chanced  to  be.  I  was  naturally  annoyed  by  his  interference. 
Anyone  would  have  been.  I  gave  him  the  kicking  he 
deserved.  That  was  low  of  me,  wasn't  it?"  as  she  made  a 
quick  movement  of  shrinking.  "You  won't  forgive  me  for 
that,  or  for  what  came  after.  The  very  next  day — to  spite 
the  little  beast — I  proposed  to  you. " 

Dinah's  eyes  were  fiercely  bright.  "I  wish  I'd  known!" 
she  said. 

"I  wish  to  heaven  you  had,  my  dear,"  Eustace  spoke 
with  a  grim  hint  of  humour.  "  It  would  have  saved  us  both 
a  good  deal  of  unnecessary  trouble  and  humiliation.  How- 
ever, Scott 'was  too  big  a  fool  to  tell  you.  There  is  a  martyr- 
like  sort  of  cussedness  about  him  that  is  several  degrees 
worse  than  any  pride.  So  he  let  things  be,  still  cheating 
himself  into  the  belief  that  the  arrangement  was  for  your 
happiness,  till,  as  you  are  aware,  it  turned  out  so  mani- 
festty  otherwise  that  he  found  himself  obliged  once  more 
to  come  to  the  rescue  of  his  lady  love.  But  his  exasperating 
humility  was  such  that  he  never  suspected  the  real  reason 
for  your  change  of  mind,  and  when  I  accused  him  of  cutting 
me  out,  he  was  as  scandalized  as  only  a  righteous  man 
knows  how  to  be.  You  can't  do  much  with  a  fellow  like 
that,  you  know, — a  fool  who  won't  believe  the  evidence  of 
his  own  senses.  Besides,  it  was  not  for  me  to  enlighten 
him,  particularly  as  you  didn't  want  him  to  know  the  real 
state  of  things  just  then.  So  I  left  him  alone.  The  next 
day — only  the  next  day,  mind  you — the  silent  knight 


476  Greatheart 

opened  his  heart;  to  whom,  do  you  think?  You'll  be 
horribly  furious  when  I  tell  you.  " 

He  looked  into  the  hot  eyes  with  an  expression  half- 
tender  in  his  own. 

"Tell  me!"  breathed  Dinah. 

"Really?  Well,  prepare  for  a  nasty  shock!  To  Rose  de 
Vigne!" 

"To  Rose!"  Indignation  gave  place  to  bewilderment  in 
Dinah's  eyes. 

"Even  so;  to  Rose.  She  guessed  the  truth,  and  he 
frankly  admitted  she  was  right,  but  gave  her  to  understand 
that  as  he  hadn't  a  chance  in  the  world,  you  were  never  to 
know.  I  am  telling  you  the  truth,  Dinah.  You  needn't 
look  so  incredulous.  She  naturally  considered  that  he  was 
not  treating  you  very  fairly  and  said  so.  But — "  he  raised 
his  shoulders  slightly — "you  know  Scott.  Mules  can't 
compete  with  him  when  he  has  made  up  his  mind  to  a 
thing.  He  gracefully  put  an  end  to  the  discussion  and 
doubtless  he  has  buried  the  whole  subject  in  a  neat  little 
corner  of  his  heart  where  no  one  can  ever  tumble  over  it, 
and  resigned  himself  to  a  lonely  old  age.  Now,  Dinah,  I  am 
going  to  give  you  the  soundest  piece  of  advice  I  have  ever 
given  anyone.  If  you  are  wise,  you  will  dig  it  up  before  the 
moss  grows,  bring  it  into  the  air  and  call  it  back  to  life.  It 
is  the  greatest  desire  of  Isabel's  heart  to  see  you  two  happy 
together.  She  told  me  so  only  to-day.  And  I  am  begin- 
ning to  think  that  I  wish  it  too. " 

His  look  was  wholly  kind  as  he  uttered  the  last  words. 
He  held  her  hand  in  the  close  grip  of  a  friend. 

"Don't  let  that  insane  humility  of  his  be  his  ruin!"  he 
urged.  "He's  a  fool.  I've  always  said  so.  But  his  fool- 
ishness is  the  sort  that  attacks  only  the  great.  Once  let 
him  know  you  care,  and  he'll  be  falling  over  himself  to 
propose." 

"Oh,  don't!"  Dinah  begged,  and  her  voice  sounded  chill 


The  Last  Summons  477 

and  yet  somehow  piteous.  "I  couldn't — ever — marry 
him.  I  told  him  so — only  the  other  day. " 

"What?  He  proposed,  did  he?"  Sheer  amazement 
sounded  in  Eustace's  voice. 

Dinah  was  not  looking  at  him  any  longer.  She  sat  rather 
huddled  in  her  chair,  as  if  a  cold  wind  had  caught  her. 

"Yes,"  she  said  in  the  same  small,  uneven  voice.  "He 
proposed.  He  didn't  make  love  to  me.  In  fact  he — 
promised,  that  he  never  would.  But  he  thought — yes,  that 
was  it — he  thought  that  presently  I  should  be  lonely,  and 
he  wanted  me  to  know  that  he  was  willing  to  protect 
me." 

"What  a  fool!"  Eustace  said.  "And  so  you  refused 
him!  I  don't  wonder.  I  should  have  pitched  something 
at  him  if  I'd  been  you.  " 

"Oh  no!  That  wasn't  why  I  refused.  I  had  another 
reason."  Dinah's  head  was  bent  low;  he  saw  the  hot 
colour  she  sought  to  hide.  "I  didn't  know  he  cared, "  she 
whispered.  "But  even  if — if  I  had  known,  I  couldn't  have 
said  Yes.  I  never  can  say  Yes  now. " 

"Good  heavens  above!"  he  said.     "Why  not?" 

"  It's  a  reason  I  can't  tell  anyone,  "  faltered  Dinah. 

"Nonsense!"  he  said,  with  a  quick  touch  of  his  old 
imperiousness.  "You  can  tell  me. " 

She  shook  her  head.     "No.     Not  you.     Not  anyone." 

"That  is  absurd,"  he  said,  with  brief  decision.  "What 
is  the  reason?  Out  with  it — quick,  like  a  good  child!  If 
you  could  marry  me,  you  can  marry  him. " 

"But  I  couldn't  have  married  you,"  she  protested,  "if 
I'd  known." 

"It's  something  that's  cropped  up  lately,  is  it?"  He 
bent  towards  her,  watching  her  keenly.  "It  can't  be 
so  very  terrible. " 

"It  is,"  she  told  him  in  distress. 

He  was  silent  a  moment;  then  very  suddenly  he  moved, 


478  Greatheart 

put  his  arm  around  her,  drew  her  close.  "What  is  it,  my 
elf?  Tell  me!"  he  whispered. 

She  hid  her  face  against  him  with  a  little  sob.  It  was 
odd,  but  at  that  moment  she  felt  no  fear  of  the  man.  He, 
whose  fiery  caresses  had  once  appalled  her,  had  by  some 
means  unknown  possessed  himself  of  her  confidence  so  that 
she  could  not  keep  him  at  a  distance.  She  did  not  even 
wish  to  do  so. 

After  a  few  seconds,  quiveringly  she  began  to  speak. 
"I  don't  know  how  to  tell  you.  It's  an  awful  thing  to 
tell.  You  know,  I — I've  never  been  happy  at  home.  My 
mother  never  liked  me, — was  often  cruel  to  me."  She 
shuddered  suddenly  and  violently.  "I  never  knew  why — 
till  that  awful  night — the  last  time  I  saw  her.  And  then — 
and  then  she  told  me."  She  drew  a  little  closer  to  him 
like  a  frightened  child. 

He  held  her  against  his  breast.  She  was  trembling  all 
over.  "Well?"  he  said  gently. 

Desperately  she  forced  herself  to  continue.  "I  don't 
belong  to — to  my  father — at  all;  only — only — to  her. " 

"What?  "he  said. 

She  buried  her  shamed  face  a  little  deeper.  "That  was 
why — she  married, "  she  whispered. 

"Your  mother  herself  told  you  that?"  Sir  Eustace's 
voice  was  very  low,  but  there  was  in  it  a  danger-note  that 
made  her  quail. 

Someone  was  coming  along  the  garden-path,  but  neither 
of  them  heard.  Dinah  was  crying  with  piteous,  long-drawn 
sobs.  The  telling  of  that  tragic  secret  had  wrung  her  very 
soul. 

"Oh,  don't  be  angry!  You  won't  be  angry?"  she 
pleaded  brokenly. 

His  hand  was  on  her  head.  "My  child,  I  am  not 
angry  with  you,"  he  said.  "You  were  not  to  blame. 
There,  dear!  There!  Don't  cry!  Isabel  will  be  dis- 


The  Last  Summons  479 

tressed  if  she  finds  out.  We  mustn't  let  her  know  of 
this. " 

"Or  Scott  either!"  She  lifted  her  face  appealingly. 
"Eustace,  please — please — you  won't  tell  Scott?  I — I 
couldn't  bear  him  to  know. " 

He  looked  into  her  beseeching  eyes,  and  his  own  softened. 
"It  may  be  he  will  have  to  know  some  day,"  he  said. 
"But— not  yet." 

The  halting  steps  drew  nearer,  uneven,  yet  somehow 
purposeful. 

Abruptly  Eustace  became  aware  of  them.  He  looked  up 
sharply.  "You  had  better  go,  dear,"  he  whispered  to  the 
girl  in  his  arms.  "Isabel  may  be  wanting  you  at  any  time. 
We  must  think  of  her  first  now.  Run  in  quickly  and  .dry 
your  eyes  before  anyone  sees!  Come  along!" 

He  rose,  supporting  her,  turned  her  towards  the  window, 
and  gently  but  urgently  pushed  her  within. 

She  went  swiftly  enough  as  he  released  her,  went  with 
her  hands  over  her  face  and  not  a  backward  glance.  And 
Eustace  wheeled  back  with  a  movement  that  was  almost 
fierce  and  met  his  brother  as  he  set  foot  upon  the  verandah. 

Scott's  face  was  pale  as  death,  and  there  was  that  in 
his  eyes  that  could  not  be  ignored.  Eustace  answered  it  on 
the  instant,  briefly,  with  a  restraint  that  obviously  cost 
him  an  effort.  "It's  all  right,  Dinah  is  a  bit  upset  this 
evening.  But  she  will  be  all  right  directly  if  we  leave  her 
alone." 

Scott  did  not  so  much  as  pause.  "Let  me  pass!"  he 
said. 

His  voice  was  perfectly  quiet,  but  the  command  of  it 
was  such  that  Eustace,  taken  unawares,  gave  ground  as  it 
were  instinctively.  But  the  next  moment  impulsively  he 
caught  Scott's  arm. 

"I  say, — Stumpy!"  An  odd  embarrassment  possessed 
him ;  he  shook  it  off  half -angrily .  ' '  You  needn't  go  making 


480  Greatheart 

mistakes — jumping  to  idiotic  conclusions.  I'm  not  cutting 
you  out  this  time. ' ' 

Scott  looked  at  him.  His  light  eyes  held  contempt. 
"Oh,  I  know  that, "  he  said,  and  there  was  in  his  slow  voice 
a  note  of  bitter  humour  that  cut  like  a  whip.  "You  are 
never  in  earnest.  You  were  always  the  sort  to  make  sport 
for  yourself  out  of  suffering,  and  then  to  toss  the  dregs  of 
your  amusement  to  those  who  are  not — sportsmen." 

Eustace  was  as  white  as  he  was  himself.  He  held  him  in  a 
grip  of  iron.  "What  the — devil  do  you  mean?"  he  said, 
his  voice  husky  with  the  strong  effort  he  made  to  control  it. 

The  younger  brother  was  absolutely  controlled,  but  his 
eyes  shone  like  a  dazzling  white  flame.  "Ask  yourself 
that  question!"  he  said,  and  his  words,  though  low,  had  a 
burning  quality,  almost  as  if  some  force  apart  from  the 
man  himself  inspired  them..  "You  know  the  answer  as 
well  as  I  do.  You  have  studied  the  damnable  game  so 
long,  offered  so  many  victims  upon  the  altar  of  your 
accursed  sport.  There  is  nothing  to  prevent  your  going  on 
with  it.  You  will  go  on  no  doubt  till  you  tire  of  the 
chase.  And  then  your  turn  will  come.  You  will  find 
yourself  alone  among  the  ruins,  and  you  will  pay  the 
price.  You  may  repent  then — but  repentance  sometimes 
comes  too  late." 

He  was  gone  with  the  words,  gone  as  if  an  inner  force 
compelled,  shaking  off  the  hand  that  had  detained  him, 
and  passing  scatheless  within. 

He  went  up  the  stairs  as  calmly  as  if  he  had  entered 
the  house  without  interruption.  Someone  was  sobbing 
piteously  behind  a  closed  door,  but  he  did  not  turn  in  that 
direction.  He  moved  straight  to  the  door  of  Isabel's  room, 
as  if  a  voice  had  called  him. 

And  on  the  threshold  Biddy  met  him,  her  black  eyes 
darkly  mysterious,  her  wrinkled  face  drawn  with  awe  rather 
than  grief. 


The  Last  Summons  481 

"Ah,  Master  Scott,  and  is  it  yourself?"  she  whispered. 
"I  was  coming  to  fetch  ye — coming  to  tell  ye.  It's  the 
call;  she's  had  her  last  summons.  Faith,  and  I  almost 
heard  it  meself.  She'll  be  gone  by  morning,  the  blessed 
lamb.  There'll  be  no  holding  her  after  this." 

Scott  passed  her  by  without  a  word.  He  went  straight  to 
his  sister's  bedside. 

She  was  lying  with  her  face  turned  up  to  the  evening 
sky,  but  on  the  instant  her  eyes  met  his,  and  in  them  was 
that  look  of  a  great  expectation  which  many  term  the 
Shadow  of  Death. 

"Oh,  Stumpy,  is  it  you?"  she  said.  Her  breathing  was 
quick  and  irregular,  but  it  did  not  seem  to  hurt  her.  "I've 
had — such  a  wonderful — dream.  Or  could  it  have  been — a 
vision?" 

He  bent  and  took  her  hand  in  his.  His  eyes  were  infinitely 
tender.  All  the  passion  had  been  wiped  out  of  his  face. 

"It  may  have  been  a  vision,  dear,"  he  said. 

Her  look  brightened ;  she  smiled.  "He  was  here — in  this 
room — with  me,"  she  said.  "He  was  standing  there — at 
the  foot  of  the  bed.  And — and — I  held  out  my  arms  to 
him.  Oh,  Stumpy,  I  almost  thought — I  was  going  with 
him  then.  But — I  think  he  heard  you  coming,  for  he 
laughed  and  drew  back.  'We  shall  meet  in  the  morning,' 
he  said.  And  while  I  was  still  looking,  he  was  gone. " 

She  began  to  pant.  He  stooped  and  raised  her.  She 
clung  to  him  with  all  her  waning  strength.  "Stumpy! 
Stumpy!  You  will  help  me — through  the  night?" 

"My  darling,  yes,"  he  said. 

She  clung  to  him  still.  "It  won't  be — good-bye,"  she 
urged  softly.  "You  will  be  coming  too — very  soon." 

"God  grant  it!"  he  said,  under  his  breath. 

Her  look  dwelt  upon  him.     Again  faintly  she  smiled. 
"Ah,  Stumpy,"  she  said,  "but  you  are  going  to  be  very- 
happy  first,  my  dear, — my  dear. " 
31 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE  MOUNTAIN-TOP 

rPHE  night  fell  like  a  black  veil,  starless  and  still.  Up 
A  in  Isabel's  room  the  watchers  came  and  went,  divid- 
ing the  hours.  Only  the  nurse  and  old  Biddy  remained 
always  at  their  posts,  the  one  seated  near  one  of  the  wide- 
flung  windows,  the  other  crouched  on  an  ottoman  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  her  beady  eyes  perpetually  fixed  upon  the 
white,  motionless  face  upon  the  pillow. 

Only  by  the  irregular  and  sometimes  difficult  breathing 
did  they  know  that  Isabel  still  lived,  for  she  gave  no  sign  of 
consciousness,  uttered  no  word,  made  no  voluntary  move- 
ment of  any  sort.  Like  those  who  watched  about  her, 
she  seemed  to  be  waiting,  waiting  for  the  amazing  reve- 
lation of  the  Dawn. 

They  had  propped  her  high  with  pillows;  her  pale 
hands  lay  outside  the  coverlet.  Her  eyes  were  closed. 
She  did  not  seem  to  notice  who  came  or  went. 

"She  may  slip  away  without  waking,"  the  nurse  whis- 
pered once  to  Dinah  who  had  crept  to  her  side.  "Or  she 
may  be  conscious  just  at  the  last.  There  is  no  telling." 

Dinah  did  not  think  that  she  was  asleep,  but  yet  during 
all  her  vigil  the  white  lids  had  not  stirred,  no  spark  of 
vitality  had  touched  the  marble  face.  She  was  possessed 
by  a  great  longing  to  speak  to  her,  to  call  her  out  of  that 
trance-like  silence;  but  she  did  not  dare.  She  was  as  one 
bound  by  a  spell.  The  great  stillness  was  too  holy  to 

482 


The  Mountain-Top  483 

break.  All  her  own  troubles  were  sunk  in  oblivion.  She 
felt  as  if  she  moved  in  a  shadow-world  where  no  troubles 
could  penetrate,  where  no  voice  was  ever  lifted  above  a 
whisper. 

As  she  crept  from  the  room,  she  met  Eustace  entering. 
He  looked  gaunt  and  haggard  in  the  dim  light.  Nothing 
seemed  natural  on  that  night  of  waiting. 

He  paused  a  moment,  touched  her  shoulder.  "Go  and 
rest,  child!"  he  muttered.  "I  will  call  you  if  she  wakes." 

She  sent  him  a  faint  smile  and  flitted  by  him  into  the 
passage.  How  could  she  rest  on  a  night  like  this,  with  the 
vague  whisperings  of  the  spirit-world  all  about  her?  Be- 
sides, in  another  hour  the  darkness  would  be  over — the 
Dawn  would  come!  Not  for  all  the  world  would  she  miss 
that  wonderful  coming  of  a  new  day — the  day  which  Isabel 
was  awaiting  in  that  dumb  passivity  of  unquestioning 
patience.  They  had  come  so  far  up  the  mountain-track 
together;  she  must  be  with  her  when  the  morning  found 
them  on  the  summit. 

But  it  was  Eustace's  turn  to  watch,  and  she  moved 
towards  her  own  room,  through  the  open  windows  of  which 
the  vague  murmur  and  splash  of  the  sleeping  sea  drifted 
like  the  accompaniment  of  far-off  music — undreamed-of 
Alleluias. 

The  dim  glow  of  a  lamp  lay  across  her  path,  like  a  barrier 
staying  her  feet.  Almost  involuntarily  she  paused  before 
a  half-open  door.  It  was  as  though  some  unseen  force 
compelled  her.  And,  so  pausing,  there  came  to  her  a 
sound  that  gripped  her  like  a  hand  upon  her  heart — it  was 
the  broken  whispering  of  a  man  in  an  agony  of  prayer. 

It  was  not  by  her  own  desire  that  she  stood  to  listen. 
The  anguish  of  that  voice  held  her,  so  that  she  was  power- 
less to  move. 

"0  God!  O  God!"  The  words  pierced  her  with  their 
entreaty ;  it  was  a  cry  from  the  very  depths.  "The  mistake 


484  Greatheart 

was  mine.  Let  me  bear  the  consequences !  But  save  her — 
O  save  her — from  further  suffering!"  A  momentary 
silence,  and  then,  more  desperately  still:  "0  God — if 
Thou  art  anywhere — hear — and  help!  Let  me  bear 
whatever  Thou  wilt!  But  spare  her — spare  her!  She 
has  borne  so  much!" 

A  terrible  sob  choked  the  gasping  utterance.  There 
fell  a  silence  so  tense,  so  poignant  with  pain,  that  the  girl 
upon  the  threshold  trembled  as  one  physically  afraid.  Yet 
she  could  not  turn  and  flee.  She  felt  as  if  it  were  laid  upon 
her  to  stand  and  witness  this  awful  struggle  of  a  soul  in  tor- 
ment. But  that  it  should  be  Scott — the  wise,  the  confident, 
the  unafraid — passing  alone  through  this  place  of  desolation, 
sent  the  blood  to  her  heart  in  a  great  wave  of  consternation. 
If  Scott  failed — if  the  sword  of  Greatheart  were  broken — 
it  seemed  to  her  that  nothing  could  be  left  in  all  the  world, 
as  if  even  the  coming  Dawn  must  be  buried  in  darkness. 
"  Was  it  for  Isabel  he  was  praying  thus?  She  supposed  it 
must  be,  though  she  had  felt  all  through  this  night  of 
waiting  that  no  prayer  was  needed.  Isabel  was  so  near  the 
mountain-top  that  surely  she  was  safe — nearer  already  to 
God  than  any  of  their  prayers  could  bring  her. 

And  yet  Scott  was  wrestling  here  as  one  overwhelmed 
with  evil.  Wherefore?  Wherefore?  The  steady  faith 
of  this  good  friend  of  hers  had  never  to  her  'knowledge 
flickered  before.  What  had  happened  to  shake  him  thus? 

He  was  praying  again,  more  coherently  but  in  words  so 
low  that  they  were  scarcely  audible.  She  crept  a  little 
nearer,  and  now  she  could  see  him,  kneeling  at  the  table, 
his  head  sunk  upon  it,  his  arms  flung  wide  with  clenched 
fists  that  seemed  impotently  to  beat  the  air. 

"I'm  praying  all  wrong,"  he  whispered.  "Forgive  me, 
but  I'm  all  in  the  dark  to-night.  Thou  knowest,  Lord,  how 
awful  the  dark  can  be.  I'm  not  asking  for  an  answer. 
Only  guide  our  feet!  Deliver  us  from  evil — deliver  her — 


The  Mountain-Top  483 

O  God — deliver  my  Dinah — by  that  love  which  is  of  Thee 
and  which  nothing  will  ever  alter!  If  I  may  not  help  her, 
give  me  strength — to  stand  aside!" 

A  great  shiver  went  through  him;  he  gripped  his  hands 
together  suddenly  and  passionately. 

"O  my  God,"  he  groaned,  "it's  the  hardest  thing  on 
earth — to  stand  and  do  nothing — when  I  love  her  so." 

Something  seemed  to  give  way  within  him  with  the  words. 
His  shoulders  shook  convulsively.  He  buried  his  face  in 
his  arms. 

And  in  that  moment  the  power  that  had  stayed  Dinah 
upon  the  threshold  suddenly  urged  her  forward. 

Almost  before  she  realized  it,  she  was  there  at  his  side, 
stooping  over  him,  holding  him — holding  him  fast  in  a  clasp 
that  was  free  from  any  hesitation  or  fear,  a  clasp  in  which 
all  her  pulsing  womanhood  rushed  forth  to  him,  exulting, 
glorying  in  its  self-betrayal. 

"My  dear!  Oh,  my  dear !"^ she  said.  "Are  you  pray- 
ing for  me?" 

"Dinah!"  he  said. 

Just  her  name,  no  more ;  but  spoken  in  a  tone  that  thrilled 
her  through  and  through !  He  leaned  against  her  for  a  few 
moments,  almost  as  if  he  feared  to  move.  Then,  as  one 
gathering  strength,  he  uttered  a  great  sigh  and  slowly  got 
to  his  feet. 

"You  mustn't  bother  about  me,"  he  said,  and  the 
sudden  rapture  had  all  gone  out  of  his  voice;  it  had  the 
flatness  of  utter  weariness.  "I  shall  be  all  right." 

But  Dinah's  hands  yet  clung  to  his  shoulders.  Those 
moments  of  yielding  had  revealed  to  her  more  than  any 
subsequent  word  or  action  could  belie.  Her  eyes,  shining 
with  a  great  light,  looked  straight  into  his. 

"Dear  Scott!  Dear  Greatheart!"  she  said,  and  her 
voice  trembled  over  the  tender  utterance  of  the  name. 
"Are  you  in  trouble?  Can't  I  help?" 


486  Greatheart 

He  took  her  face  between  his  hands,  looking  straight 
back  into  the  shining  eyes.  "You  are  the  trouble,  Dinah," 
he  told  her  simply.  "And  I'd  give  all  I  have — I'd  give  my 
soul — to  make  life  easier  for  you. " 

She  leaned  towards  him,  and  suddenly  those  shining 
eyes  were  blurred  with  a  glimmer  of  tears.  ' '  Life  is  dread- 
fully difficult,"  she  said.  "But  you  have  never  done 
anything  but  help  me.  And,  oh,  Scott,  I — don't  know  if  I 
ought  to  tell  you — forgive  me  if  it's  wrong — but — but  I  feel 
I  must — "  her  breath  came  so  quickly  that  she  could  hardly 
utter  the  words — "I  love  you — I  love  you — better  than 
anyone  else  in  the  world!" 

"Dinah!"  he  said,  as  one  incredulous. 

"It's  true!"  she  panted.  "It's  true!  Eustace  knows 
it — has  known  it  almost  as  long  as  I  have.  It  isn't  the 
only  thing  I  have  to  tell  you,  but  it's  the  first — and  biggest. 
And  even  though — even  though — I  shall  never  be  any- 
thing more  to  you  than  I  am  now — I'm  glad — I'm  proud — 
for  you  to  know.  There's  nothing  else  that  counts  in  the 
same  way.  And  though — though  I  refused  you  the  other 
day — I  wanted  you — dreadfully,  dreadfully.  If — if  I  had 
only  been  good  enough  for  you —  But — but — I'm  not!" 
She  broke  off,  battling  with  herself. 

He  was  still  holding  her  face  between  his  hands,  and 
there  was  something  of  insistence,  something  that  even 
bordered  upon  ruthlessness,  in  his  hold.  Though  the  tears 
were  running  down  her  face,  he  would  not  let  her  go. 

"Will  you  tell  me  what  you  mean  by  that?"  he  said,  his 
voice  very  low.  "Or — must  I  ask  Eustace?" 

She  started.  There  was  that  in  his  tone  that  made  her 
wince  inexplicably.  "Oh  no,"  she  said,  "no!  I'll  tell 
you  myself — if — if  you  must  know.  " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  must,  "  he  said,  and  for  all  their  resolution, 
the  words  had  a  sound  of  deadly  weariness.  He  let  her  go 
slowly  as  he  uttered  them.  "Sit  down!"  he  said  gently. 


The  Mountain-Top  487 

"And  please  don't  tremble!  There  is  nothing  to  make  you 
afraid." 

She  dropped  into  the  chair  he  indicated,  and  made  a 
desperate  effort  to  calm  herself.  He  stood  beside  her  with 
the  absolute  patience  of  one  accustomed  to  long  waiting. 

After  a  few  moments,  she  put  up  a  quivering  hand,  seek- 
ing his.  He  took  it  instantly,  and  as  his  fingers  closed 
firmly  upon  her  own,  she  found  courage. 

"I  didn't  want  you  to  know,  "  she  whispered.  "But  I — 
I  see  now — it's  better  that  you  should.  There's  no  other 
way — of  making  you  understand.  It's  just  this — just 
this!"  She  swallowed  hard,  striving  to  control  the  piteous 
trembling  of  her  voice.  "  I  am — one  of  those  people — that 
— that  never  ought  to  have  been  born.  I  don't  belong — 
anywhere — except  to — my  mother  who — who — who  has  no 
use  for  me, — hated  me  before  ever  I  came  into  the  world. 
You  see,  she — married  because — because — another  man 
— my  real  father — had  played  her  false.  Oh,  do  you 
wonder — do  you  wonder —  "  she  bowed  her  forehead  upon 
his  hand  with  a  rush  of  tears — "that — that  when  I  knew 
— I — I  felt  as  if — I  couldn't — go  on  with  life?" 

Her  weeping  was  piteous ;  it  shook  her  from  head  to  foot. 

But — in  the  very  midst  of  her  distress — there  came  to 
her  a  wonder  so  great  that  it  checked  her  tears  at  the  height 
of  their  flow.  For  very  suddenly  it  dawned  upon  her  that 
Scott — Scott,  her  knight  of  the  golden  armour — was  kneel- 
ing at  her  feet. 

Half  in  wonder  and  half  in  awe,  she  lifted  her  head  and 
looked  at  him.  And  in  that  moment  he  took  her  two 
hands  and  kissed  them,  tenderly,  reverently,  lingeringly. 

"Was  this  what  you  and  Eustace  were  talking  about 
this  afternoon?"  he  said. 

She  nodded.  ' '  I  had  to  tell  him — why — I  couldn't  marry 
you.  He — he  had  been — so  kind." 

"But,  my  own  Dinah,"  he  said,  and  in  his  voice  was  a 


488  Greatheart 

quiver  half-quizzical  yet  strangely  charged  with  emotion, 
"did  you  ever  seriously  imagine  that  I  should  allow  a  sordid 
little  detail  like  that  to  come  between  us  ?  Surely  Eustace 
knew  better  than  that!" 

She  heard  him  in  amazement,  scarcely  believing  that 
she  heard.  "Do  you — can  you  mean — "  she  faltered, 
"that — it  really — doesn't  count?" 

"I  mean  that  it  is  less  than  nothing  to  me,"  he  made 
answer,  and  in  his  eyes  as  they  looked  into  hers  was  that 
glory  of  worship  that  she  had  once  seen  in  a  dream.  "I 
mean,  my  darling,  that  since  you  want  me  as  I  want  you, 
nothing — nothing  in  the  world — can  ever  come  between 
us  any  more.  Oh,  my  dear,  my  dear,  I  wish  you'd  told  me 
sooner." 

"I  knew  I  ought  to,"  she  murmured,  still  hardly  believing. 
"And  yet — somehow — I  couldn't  bear  the  thought  of  your 
knowing, — particularly  as — as — till  Eustace  told  me — I 
never  dreamed  you — cared.  You  are  so — great.  You 
ought  to  have  someone  so  much — better  than  I.  I'm  not 
nearly  good  enough — not  nearly. " 

He  was  drawing  her  to  him,  and  she  went  with  a  little 
sob  into  his  arms;  but  she  turned  her  face  away  over  his 
shoulder,  avoiding  his. 

"I  ought  not — to  have  told  you — I  loved  you,"  she 
said  brokenly.  "It  wasn't  right  of  me.  Only — when  I 
saw  you  so  unhappy — I  couldn't — somehow — keep  it  in 
any  longer.  Dear  Scott,  don't  you  think — before — before 
we  go  any  further — you  had  better — forget  it  and — give  me 
up?" 

"No,  I  don't  think  so."  Scott  spoke  very  softly,  with 
the  utmost  tenderness,  into  her  ear.  "  Don't  you  realize,  " 
he  said,  "that  we  belong  to  each  other?  Could  there  possi- 
bly be  anyone  else  for  either  you  or  me?" 

She  did  not  answer  him;  only  she  clung  a  little  closer. 
And,  after  a  moment,  as  she  felt  the  drawing  of  his  hold, 


The  Mountain-Top  489 

"Don't  kiss  me — yet ! ' '  she  begged  him  tremulously.  ' ' Let 
us  wait  till — the  morning!" 

His  arms  relaxed.  "  It  is  very  near  the  morning  now, "  he 
said.  "Shall  we  go  and  watch  for  it?" 

They  rose  together.  Dinah's  eyes  sought  his  for  one  shy, 
fleeting  second,  falling  instantly  as  if  half-dazzled,  half- 
afraid.  He  took  her  hand  and  led  her  quietly  from  the 
room. 

It  was  no  longer  dark  in  the  passage  outside.  A  pearly 
light  was  growing.  The  splash  of  the  sea  sounded  very  far 
below  them,  as  the  dim  surging  of  a  world  unseen  might 
rise  to  the  watchers  on  the  mountain-top. 

They  moved  to  an  open  window  at  the  end  of  the  pas- 
sage. No  sound  came  from  Isabel's  room  close  by,  and 
after  a  few  seconds  Scott  turned  noiselessly  aside  and 
entered. 

Dinah  remained  at  the  open  window  waiting  with  a 
throbbing  heart  in  the  great  silence  that  wrapped  the 
world.  She  was  not  afraid,  but  she  longed  for  Scott  to 
come  back ;  she  was  conscious  of  an  urgent  need  of  him. 

Several  moments  passed,  and  then  softly  he  returned. 
"No  change!"  he  whispered.  "Eustace  will  call  us — when 
it  comes." 

She  slipped  her  hand  back  into  his,  without  speaking. 
He  made  her  sit  upon  the  window-seat,  and  knelt  himself 
upon  it,  his  arm  about  her  shoulders,  his  fingers  clasping 
hers. 

She  could  see  his  face  but  vaguely  in  the  dimness,  but 
many  times  during  that  holy  hour  before  the  dawn,  though 
he  spoke  no  word,  she  felt  that  he  was  praying  or  giving 
thanks. 

Slowly  the  twilight  turned  into  a  velvet  dusk.  The 
great  Change  was  drawing  near.  The  silence  lay  like  a 
thinning  veil  of  mist  upon  the  mountain-top.  The  clouds 
were  parting  in  the  East,  all  tinged  with  gold,  like  burnished 


49°  Greatheart 

gates  flung  back  for  the  royal  coming  of  the  sun-god.  The 
stillness  that  lay  upon  all  the  waiting  earth  was  sacred 
as  the  hush  of  prayer. 

Their  faces  were  turned  towards  the  spreading  glow.  It 
shone  upon  them  as  it  shone  upon  all  beside,  widening, 
intensifying,  till  the  whole  earth  lay  wrapped  in  solemn 
splendour — and  then  at  last,  through  the  open  gates,  red, 
royal,  triumphant,  the  sun-god  came. 

There  came  a  moment  in  which  all  things  were  touched 
with  the  glory,  all  things  were  made  new.  And  in  that 
moment,  sudden  as  a  flash  of  light,  a  bird  of  pure  white 
plumage  appeared  before  their  eyes,  hovered  an  instant; 
then  flew,  mounting  on  wide,  gleaming  wings,  straight 
into  the  dawn.  .  .  . 

Even  while  they  watched,  it  vanished  through  the 
gates  of  gold.  And  only  the  gracious  sunshine  of  a  new  day 
remained.  .  .  . 

A  low  voice  spoke  from  the  chamber  of  Death.  They 
turned  from  the  vision  and  saw  Eustace  standing  in  the 
doorway. 

He  was  very  white,  but  absolutely  calm.  There  was  a 
nobility  about  him  at  that  moment  that  sent  a  queer  little 
throb  to  Dinah's  heart.  He  held  out  his  hand,  not  to  her, 
but  to  Scott.  "She  is  gone, "  he  said. 

Scott  went  to  him ;  she  saw  their  hands  meet.  There  was 
no  agitation  about  either  of  them. 

"In  her  sleep?"  Scott  said. 

"Yes.     We  didn't  even  know — till  it  was  over." 

They  turned  into  the  room,  still  hand  grasping  hand. 

And  Dinah  knelt  up  and  stretched  out  her  arms  to  the 
shining  morning  sky.  Something  within  her  was  whispering 
that  she  and  Scott  had  seen  more  of  the  passing  of  Isabel 
than  any  of  those  who  had  watched  beside  her  bed.  And  in 
the  quiet  of  that  wonderful  morning,  she  offered  her  quiver- 
ing thanks  to  God. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

CONSOLATION 

OF  the  long  hours  that  followed  that  wonderful  dawning 
Dinah  never  had  any  very  distinct  recollection. 
Even  Scott  seemed  to  forget  her  for  a  while,  and  it  was  old 
Biddy  who  presently  found  her  curled  up  on  the  window- 
seat  with  her  head  upon  the  sill  asleep — Biddy  with  her 
eyes  very  bright  and  alert,  albeit  deeply  rimmed  with  red. 

She  came  to  the  childish,  drooping  figure,  murmuring 
tender  words.  She  put  wiry  arms  about  her  and  lifted  her 
to  her  feet. 

"There!  Come  to  your  own  room  and  rest,  my  lamb!" 
she  said.  "Old  Biddy'll  take  care  of  ye,  aroon. " 

Dinah  submitted  with  the  vague  docility  of  a  brain  but 
half -a  wakened.  To  be  cared  for  and  petted  by  Biddy  was 
no  new  thing  in  her  experience.  She  even  felt  as  if  the  old 
crystal  Alpine  days  had  returned,  as  Biddy  undressed  her 
and  presently  tucked  her  into  bed.  Later,  still  in  semi- 
consciousness,  she  drank  the  hot  milk  that  the  old  woman 
brought  her,  and  then  sank  into  a  deep,  deep  sleep. 

She  awakened  from  that  sleep  with  a  sense  of  well-being 
such  as  she  had  never  known  before,  a  feeling  of  complete 
security  and  rest.  The  house  was  very  quiet,  and  through 
the  curtained  window  there  came  to  her  the  soft,  slumbrous 
splash  of  the  waves. 

She  lay  very  still,  listening  to  the  soothing  murmur, 
gradually  focussing  her  mind  again  after  its  long  oblivion. 

491 


492  Greatheart 

The  memory  of  the  previous  night  and  of  the  coming  of 
the  dawn  came  back  to  her,  and  with  it  the  thought  of 
Isabel;  but  without  grief  and  without  regret.  They  had 
left  her  on  the  mountain-top,  and  she  knew  that  all  must  be 
well. 

A  great  peace  seemed  to  have  fallen  like  a  veil  upon  the 
whole  house.  Surely  no  one  could  be  mourning  over  that 
glad  release !  She  saw  again  the  flashing  of  those  free  wings 
in  the  dawn-light,  and  her  heart  thrilled  afresh.  She 
remembered  too  the  close,  strong  clasp  of  Scott's  hand  as 
he  had  watched  with  her. 

Where  was  Scott  now?  The  wonder  darted  suddenly 
through  her  brain,  and  with  it,  swift  as  a  flying  cloud- 
shadow,  came  the  want  of  him,  the  longing  for  the  quiet 
voice,  the  quivering  delight  of  his  near  presence.  She  half- 
raised  herself,  and  then,  caught  by  another  thought,  sank 
down  again  to  hide  her  burning  face  in  the  pillow.  It  would 
be  a  little  difficult  to  meet  him  again.  On  the  old  easy 
terms  of  friendship  it  could  not  be,  and  they  had  hardly 
begun  to  be  lovers  yet.  He — had  not  even — kissed  her! 

Another  thought  came  to  her — of  an  even  more  disturb- 
ing nature.  Save  for  old  Biddy  and  the  nurse,  she  was  alone 
with  the  two  brothers  now.  Would  they — would  they 
insist  upon  sending  her  home  until — until  Scott  was  ready 
to  come  and  take  her  away  ?  Oh,  surely — surely  Scott  would 
never  ask  that  of  her ! 

Nevertheless  the  thought  tormented  her.  She  did  not 
see  any  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  and  she  was  terribly 
afraid  that  Scott  would  be  equally  at  a  loss. 

"  I  don't  think  I  could  bear  it,  "  she  whispered  to  herself. 
"And  yet — if  he  says  so — if  he  says  so — I  suppose  I  must. 
I  couldn't  refuse — if  he  said  so. " 

The  soft  opening  of  the  door  recalled  her  to  the  immedi- 
ate present.  She  saw  old  Biddy's  face  with  its  watchful, 
guardian  look  peep  stealthily  in  upon  her. 


Consolation  493 

"Ah,  mavourneen ! "  she  whispered  fondly,  coming  for- 
ward. "And  is  it  awake  ye  are?  I've  peeped  round  at 
ye  this  five  times,  and  ye  were  sleeping  like  a  new-born  babe. 
Lie  still,  darlint,  swhile  I  fetch  ye  a  cup  o'  tay  then!" 

She  was  gone  with  the  words,  but  in  a  very  little  she  was 
back  again  with  her  own  especial  brew.  She  set  her  tray 
down  by  Dinah's  side,  but  Dinah  did  not  even  look  at  it. 
She  raised  herself  instead,  and  threw  warm  arms  around 
the  old  woman's  neck.  "Oh,  Biddy,"  she  said,  "Biddy, 
darling,  I  can't  think  what  ever  I'd  do  without  you!" 

Biddy  uttered  a  sharp  sob,  and  gathered  her  close. 
But  in  a  moment,  half -angrily,  "And  what  is  it  that  I'd  be 
crying  for  at  all?"  she  said.  "Isn't  my  dear  Miss  Isabel 
safer  with  the  Almighty  than  ever  she  was  with  me?  Isn't 
she  gone  to  the  blessed  saints  in  Paradise?  And  would  I 
have  her  back?  No,  no !  I'm  not  that  selfish,  Miss  Dinah. 
I'm  an  old  woman  moreover,  and  be  the  same  token  me  own 
time  can't  be  so  far  off  now. " 

But  Dinah  clung  faster  to  her.  "Please,  Biddy,  please — 
don't  talk  like  that!  I  want  you, "  she  said. 

"Ah,  bless  the  dear  lamb!"  said  Biddy,  and  tenderly 
kissed  the  upturned,  pleading  face.  "Miss  Isabel  said  ye 
would  now.  But  when  ye've  got  Master  Scott  to  take  care 
of  ye,  it's  not  old  Biddy  that  ye'll  be  wanting  any  longer. " 

"I  shall,"  Dinah  vowed.  "I  shall.  I  shall  always 
vrant  my  Biddy. " 

"And  may  the  Lord  Almighty  bless  ye  for  the  word!" 
said  Biddy. 

When  Dinah  was  dressed,  a  great  shyness  fell  upon  her, 
born  partly  of  the  still  mystery  of  the  presence  of  Death 
that  wrapped  the  little  house.  She  stood  by  the  window 
of  her  room,  looking  forth,  irresolute,  over  the  evening  sea. 

The  blinds  were  drawn  only  in  the  room  of  Death,  for 
Scott  had  so  decreed,  and  the  air  blew  in  sweet  and  fresh 
from  the  rippling  water. 


494  Greatheart 

After  a  few  minutes,  Biddy  came  softly  up  behind  her. 
"And  is  it  himself  ye're  looking  for,  mavourneen?"  she 
murmured  at  Dinah's  shoulder. 

Dinah  started  a  little  and  flushed.  She  wondered  if 
Biddy  knew  all  or  only  guessed.  "I  don't  know — what 
to  do, "  she  said  rather  confusedly. 

Biddy  gave  her  a  quick,  wise  look.  "Will  I  tell  ye  a 
secret,  Miss  Dinah  dear?"  she  whispered. 

Dinah  looked  at  her.  The  old  woman's  face  was  full  of 
shrewd  understanding.  "Yes,  tell  me ! "  she  said  somewhat 
breathlessly. 

Biddy's  brown  hand  grasped  her  arm.  "Master  Scott 
went  to  town  this  morning, "  she  said.  "He'll  be  back  any 
minute  now.  Sir  Eustace  is  downstairs.  He  wants  to  see 
ye — to  tell  ye  something — before  Master  Scott  gets  back." 

"Oh,  what — what?"  gasped  Dinah. 

"There,  now,  there!  Don't  ye  be  afraid!"  said  Biddy, 
her  beady  eyes  softening.  "It's  something  ye'll  like. 
Master  Scott — he's  not  the  gentleman  to  make  ye  do  any- 
thing ye  don't  want  to  do.  Don't  ye  trust  him,  Miss 
Dinah?" 

"Of  course — of  course,"  Dinah  said,  with  trembling 
lips. 

"Then  ye've  nothing  to  be  afraid  of, "  said  Biddy  wisely. 
"Faith,  it's  only  the  marriage-licence  he's  been  to  fetch!" 

"Oh — Biddy!"  Dinah  wheeled  from  the  window,  with 
both  her  hands  over  her  heart. 

Biddy  nodded  with  grave  triumph.  "  It  was  Sir  Eustace 
made  him  go.  Master  Scott — he  didn't  think  it  would  be 
dacent,  not  at  first.  But,  as  Sir  Eustace  said,  there's  more 
ways  than  one  of  being  ondacent,  and  after  all  it  was  the 
dearest  wish  of  Miss  Isabel's  heart.  'Don't  you  be  a 
conventional  fool!'  he  said.  And  for  once  I  agreed  with 
him, "  said  Biddy  naively,  "though  I  think  he  needn't  have 
used  bad  language  over  it. " 


Consolation  495 

"Oh — Biddy!"  Dinah  said  again,  and  then  very  oddly 
she  began  to  smile,  and  the  tension  went  out  of  her  attitude. 
She  kissed  the  wrinkled  cheek,  and  turned.  "I  think 
perhaps  I  will  go  down  and  speak  to  Sir  Eustace, "  she  said. 

She  went  quickly,  aware  that  if  she  suffered  herself  to 
pause,  that  overpowering  shyness  would  seizeupon  her  again. 

Guided  by  the  scent  of  cigarette-smoke,  she  entered  the 
dining-room.  Sir  Eustace  was  seated  at  a  writing-table 
near  the  window.  He  looked  up  swiftly  at  her  entrance. 

"Awake  at  last!"  he  said,  and  would  have  risen  with  the 
words,  but  she  reached  him  first  and  checked  him. 

"Eustace!  Oh,  Eustace!"  she  said.  "I — I — Biddy  has 
just  told  me " 

He  frowned,  as  she  stopped  in  confusion,  steadying  ner- 
self  rather  piteously  against  his  shoulder.  But  in  a  moment, 
seeing  her  agitation,  he  put  a  kindly  arm  around  her. 

"Biddy  is  an  old  fool — always  was.  Don't  take  any 
notice  of  her!  What  a  ferment  you're  in,  child!  What's 
the  matter?  There,  sit  down!" 

He  drew  her  down  on  to  the  arm  of  his  chair,  and  she 
leaned  against  him,  striving  for  self-control. 

"You — you  are  so — so  much  too  good,"  she  murmured. 

He  smiled  rather  grimly.  "No  one  ever  accused  me  of 
that  before!  Was  that  the  staggering  piece  of  informa- 
tion that  Biddy  has  imparted  to  you  ? ' ' 

"No,"  she  said,  a  fleeting  smile  upon  her  own  face. 
"It  was — it  was — about  Scott.  It  took  my  breath  away, — 
that's  all." 

"That  all?"  said  Eustace  with  a  faintly  wry  lift  of  one 
eyebrow. 

She  slipped  a  shy  arm  around  his  neck.  "Eustace,  do 
you — do  you  think  I — ought  to  let  Scott  marry  me?" 

"I'm  quite  sure  you'll  break  his  heart  if  you  don't," 
responded  Eustace. 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  do  that!"  she  said  quickly. 


496  Greatheart 

"No.  I  shouldn't  if  I  were  you.  It  isn't  a  very  amus- 
ing game  for  anyone  concerned. "  Sir  Eustace  took  up  his 
pen  with  his  free  hand.  "He's  rather  a  good  chap,  you 
know,"  he  said,  "beastly  good  sometimes.  He'll  take  a 
little  living  up  to.  But  you'll  manage  that,  I  daresay. 
When  he  told  me  how  things  stood  between  you,  I  saw  di- 
rectly that  there  was  only  one  thing  to  be  done,  and  I  made 
him  do  it.  The  idea  is  to  get  you  married  before  the  nurse 
goes,  and  she  is  off  to-morrow. "  He  paused,  looking  at  her 
critically,  and  again  half-cynically,  half-sadly,  smiled. 
"You  took  that  well,"  he  said.  "If  it  had  been  to  me, 
you'd  have  jumped  sky-high.  You're  a  wise  little  creature, 
Dinah.  You've  chosen  the  best  man,  and  you'll  never 
be  sorry.  I  congratulate  you  on  your  choice. " 

He  turned  his  face  fully  to  her,  and  she  stooped  swiftly 
and  kissed  him.  "  I'm — dreadfully  sorry  I — treated  you  so 
badly  first, "  she  whispered. 

"You  needn't  be,"  he  said.  "It  did  me  good.  You 
showed  me  myself  from  a  point  of  view  that  I  had  never 
taken  before.  You  taught  me  to  be  human.  I  told  Isabel 
so.  She — poor  girl — "  he  stopped  a  second,  and  she  saw 
that  momentarily  he  was  moved;  but  he  continued  almost 
at  once — "she  was  grateful  to  you  too,"  he  said.  "You 
removed  the  outer  crust  at  a  single  stroke — just  in  time  to 
prevent  atrophy.  Of  course, "  he  glanced  down  at  the 
letter  under  his  hand,  "it  was  a  more  or  less  painful  process, 
but  it  may  comfort  you  to  know  that  it  didn't  go  quite  so 
deep  with  me  as  I  thought  it  had  at  the  time.  There's 
no  sense  in  crying  over  spilt  milk  anyhow.  I  never  was 
that  sort  of  ass.  You  may — or  may  not — be  pleased  to 
hear  that  I  am  already  well  on  the  way  to  consolation." 
He  lifted  his  eyes  suddenly  with  an  expression  in  them 
that  completely  baffled  her.  It  was  almost  as  if  he  had 
detached  himself  for  the  moment  from  all  participation  in 
his  own  doings,  contemplating  them  with  a  half-pathetic 


Consolation  497 

irony.  "Shall  I  tell  you  what  I  was  doing  when  you  came 
in  just  now?"  he  said.  "I  was  writing  to  the  girl  you 
nearly  sacrificed  your  happiness  to  cut  out." 

"Rose  de  Vigne?"  she  said  quickly. 

He  nodded.  "Yes,  Rose  de  Vigne."  He  paused  for  a 
second,  just  a  second ;  then :  "The  girl  I  am  going  to  marry, " 
he  said  quietly. 

"Oh,  Eustace!"  There  was  no  mistaking  the  gladness 
in  Dinah's  tone.  "I  am  pleased!"  she  said  earnestly.  "I 
know  you  will  be  happy  together.  You  were  simply  made 
for  each  other. " 

He  smiled,  still  in  that  strange,  half-rueful  fashion. 
"  I  am  doing  the  best  I  can  under  the  circumstances.  It  is 
kind  of  you  to  be  pleased.  But  now  once  more  to  your 
affairs.  They  are  more  pressing  than  mine  just  now. 
It  may  interest  you  to  know  that  Scott — although  under 
Isabel's  will  he  is  made  absolutely  independent  of  me — is 
willing  to  live  at  the  Dower  House,  if  that  arrangement 
meets  with  your  approval. " 

"Of  course — I  shall  love  it, "  Dinah  said. 

"I  am  glad  of  that,  for  it  will  be  a  great  help  to  me  to 
have  him  there.  You  will  be  able  to  have  Billy  to  stay  with 
you  in  the  holidays  and  roam  about  as  you  like.  Scott  is 
making  all  sorts  of  plans.  I  am  going  to  settle  the  place 
on  him  as  a  wedding-present. " 

"Oh,  Eustace!     How  kind!    What  a  lovely  gift!" 

Sir  Eustace  smiled  at  her.  "I  am  giving  him  more  than 
that,  Dinah.  I  am  giving  him  his  wife  and — the  wedding- 
ring. "  The  irony  was  uppermost  again,  but  it  held  no 
sting.  "It  will  fit  no  other  hand  but  yours,  and  it  will 
serve  to  keep  you  in  constant  remembrance  of  your  good 
luck.  I  can  hear  him  coming  up  the  path.  Aren't  you 
going  to  meet  him?" 

She  sprang  up  like  a  startled  fawn.  "Oh,  I  can't — I 
can't  meet'him  yet,"  she  said  desperately. 


498  Greatheart 

There  was  a  curious  glint  in  Eustace's  eyes  as  he  watched 
her,  a  flash  of  mockery  that  came  and  went. 

" What? "  he  said.  "Do  you  want  me  to  help  you  to  run 
away  from  him  now?" 

She  looked  at  him  quickly,  and  in  a  moment  her  hesi- 
tation was  gone. 

"  Oh,  no ! "  she  said.  "  No ! "  and  with  a  little  breathless 
sound  that  might  have  been  a  tremor  of  laughter,  she  fled 
away  from  him  out  into  the  evening  sunshine  to  meet  her 
lover. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE    SEVENTH   HEAVEN 

r"PHEY  were  married  in  the  early  morning  at  the  little 
1  old  church  that  had  nestled  for  centuries  among  its 
trees  in  the  village  on  the  cliff.  The  absolute  simplicity  of 
the  service  deprived  it  of  all  terrors  for  Dinah.  Standing 
with  Scott  in  the  glow  of  sunlight  that  smote  full  upon  them 
through  the  mellow  east  window,  she  could  not  feel  afraid. 
The  whole  world  was  so  bright,  so  full  of  joy. 

' '  Do  you  think  Isabel  can  see  us  now  ? ' '  she  whispered  to 
him,  as  they  rose  together  from  kneeling  before  the  altar. 

He  did  not  answer  her  in  words,  but  his  pale  eyes  were 
shining  with  that  steadfast  light  of  the  spirit  which  she 
had  come  to  know.  She  wished  she  could  have  knelt 
there  by  his  side  a  little  longer.  They  seemed  to  be  so  near 
to  the  Gates  of  Heaven. 

But  they  were  not  alone,  and  they  could  not  linger.  Sir 
Eustace  who  had  given  her  away,  Biddy  who  had  tenderly 
supported  her,  the  nurse  who  carried  the  fragrant  bouquet 
of  honeysuckle — the  bond  of  love — which  she  had  herself 
gathered  for  the  bride,  all  were  waiting  to  draw  them  back 
to  earth  again;  and  with  Scott's  hand  clasping  hers  she 
turned  regretfully  and  left  the  holy  place. 

Later,  when  Sir  Eustace  kissed  her  with  the  careless 
observation  that  he  always  kissed  a  bride,  she  had  a  moment 
of  burning  shyness,  and  she  would  gladly  have  hidden  her 
face.  But  Scott  did  not  kiss  her.  He  had  not  offered  to  do 

499 


500  Greatheart 

so  since  that  wonderful  moment  when  he  had  first  held  her 
against  his  heart.  He  had  not  attempted  to  make  love 
to  her,  and  she  had  not  felt  the  need  of  it.  Grave  and 
practical,  he  had  laid  his  plans  before  her,  and  with  the 
supreme  confidence  that  he  had  always  inspired  in  her  she 
had  acquiesced  to  all. 

At  his  desire  she  had  refrained  from  entering  Isabel's 
death-chamber.  At  his  desire  she  was  to  leave  that  day 
for  the  Dower  House  that  was  to  be  their  home.  Biddy 
would  accompany  her  thither.  The  place  was  ready  for 
occupation,  for  by  Isabel's  wish  the  work  had  gone  on, 
though  both  she  and  Scott  had  known  that  they  would  never 
share  a  home  there.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  she  had  foreseen 
the  fulfilment  of  her  earnest  wish.  And  here  Dinah  was  to 
await  her  husband. 

"I  won't  come  to  you  till  the  funeral  is  over,"  he  said 
to  her.  "I  must  be  with  Eustace.  You  won't  be  un- 
happy?" 

No,  she  would  not  be  unhappy.  She  had  never  been  so 
near  to  Death  before,  but  she  was  neither  frightened  nor 
dismayed.  She  stood  in  the  shadow  indeed,  but  she  looked 
forth  from  it  over  a  world  of  such  sunshine  as  filled  her 
heart  with  quivering  gladness. 

He  did  not  want  her  to  attend  the  funeral  at  Willow- 
mount,  would  not,  if  he  could  help  it,  suffer  her  so  much  as 
to  see  the  trappings  of  woe;  and  in  this  Dinah  acquiesced 
also,  comprehending  fully  the  motive  that  underlay  his 
wish.  She  knew  that  the  earthly  formalities,  though  they 
had  to  be  faced,  were  to  Scott  something  of  the  nature  of  a 
grim  farce  in  which,  while  he  could  not  escape  it  himself, 
he  was  determined  that  she  should  take  no  part.  He  was 
not  mourning  for  Isabel.  He  would  not  pretend  to  mourn. 
Her  death  was  to  him  but  as  the  opening  wide  of  a  prison- 
door  to  one  who  had  long  lain  captive,  pining  for  liberty. 
He  would  follow  the  poor  worn  body  to  its  grave  rather 


The  Seventh  Heaven  501 

with  thanksgiving  than  with  grief.  And  realizing  so  well 
that  this  was  his  inevitable  feeling,  even  as  in  a  smaller 
degree  it  had  become  her  own,  Dinah  agreed  without  demur 
to  his  wish  to  spare  her  all  the  jarring  details,  the  travesty 
of  mourning,  that  could  not  fail  to  strike  a  false  chord  in 
her  soul. 

It  was  well  for  her  that  she  had  Biddy  to  think  of.  The 
old  woman  was  pathetically  eager  to  serve  her.  She  had  in 
fact  attached  herself  to  Dinah  in  a  fashion  that  went  to  her 
heart.  It  was  Miss  Isabel's  wish  that  she  should  take 
care  of  her,  she  told  her  tremulously,  and  Dinah  knew  that 
it  had  been  equally  her  friend's  wish  that  she  should  care 
for  Biddy. 

And  Biddy  was  very  good.  Probably  in  accordance 
with  Scott's  desire,  she  made  a  great  effort  to  throw  off  all 
gloom,  and  undoubtedly  her  own  sense  of  loss  and  bereave- 
ment was  greatly  lessened  by  the  consciousness  of  Dinah's 
need  of  her. 

"Time  enough  to  weep  later,"  she  told  herself,  as  she 
lay  down  in  the  room  adjoining  Dinah's  on  that  first  night 
in  the  Dower  House.  "She'll  not  be  wanting  old  Biddy 
when  Master  Scott  comes  to  her." 

The  two  days  that  followed  were  very  fully  occupied. 
There  were  curtains  and  pictures  to  hang,  furniture  to  be 
arranged,  and  many  things  to  be  unpacked.  Dinah  went 
to  the  work  with  zest.  She  did  not  know  when  Scott 
would  come.  But  it  would  be  soon,  she  knew  it  would 
be  soon;  and  she  thrilled  to  the  thought.  Every- 
thing must  be  ready  for  him.  She  wanted  him  to  feel 
that  it  was  home  from  the  moment  he  crossed  the 
threshold. 

So,  with  Biddy's  help,  she  went  about  her  preparations, 
enlisting  the  old  nurse's  sympathies  till  at  last  she  suc- 
ceeded in  arousing  her  enthusiasm  also.  There  was  cer- 
tainly no  time  to  weep. 


502  Greatheart 

That  second  day  after  her  arrival  was  the  day  of  the 
funeral.  It  was  a  beautiful  still  day  of  summer,  and  in  the 
afternoon  Dinah  and  Biddy  sat  in  the  garden  overlooking 
the  winding  river,  and  read  the  Burial  Service  together.  It 
was  Dinah's  suggestion,  somewhat  shyly  proffered,  and — 
though  she  knew  it  not — from  that  time  forward  Biddy's 
heart  was  at  her  feet.  Whatever  tears  there  might  be  yet 
to  shed  had  lost  all  bitterness  from  that  hour. 

"I'll  never  be  lonely  so  long  as  there's  you  to  love,  Miss 
Dinah  darlint, "  Biddy  murmured,  when  the  young. arms 
closed  about  her  neck  for  a  moment  ere  they  went  back  to 
their  work.  "Ye've  warmed  and  comforted  me  all 
through." 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  dusk  was  falling  that 
there  came  the  sound  of  an  uneven  tread  on  the  gravel 
path  before  the  Dower  House. 

Dinah  was  the  first  to  hear  it.  Dinah  wearing  one  of 
Biddy's  voluminous  aprons  and  mounted  on  a  pair  of  steps, 
arranging  china  on  a  high  shelf  that  ran  round  the  old  square 
hall. 

The  front-door  was  open,  and  the  birds  were  singing  in 
the  gloaming.  She  had  been  listening  to  them  while  she 
worked,  when  suddenly  this  new  sound  came.  Her  heart 
gave  a  wild  leap  and  stood  still.  She  had  not  expected  him 
to-night. 

She  sat  down  on  the  top  of  the  steps  with  a  swift,  inde- 
scribable rush  of  feeling  that  seemed  to  deprive  her  of  all  her 
strength.  She  could  not  have  said  for  the  moment  if  she 
were  glad  or  dismayed  at  the  sound  of  that  quiet  footfall. 
But  she  was  quite  powerless  to  go  and  meet  him.  A  great 
wave  of  shyness  engulfed  her,  possessing  her,  overwhelming 
her. 

He  entered.  He  came  straight  to  her.  She  wondered 
afterwards  what  he  must  have  thought  of  her,  sitting  there 
on  her  perch  in  burning  embarrassment  with  no  word  or 


The  Seventh  Heaven  503 

sign  of  welcome.  But  whatever  he  thought,  he  dealt  with 
the  situation  with  unerring  instinct. 

He  mounted  a  couple  of  steps  with  hands  stretched  up 
to  hers.  "Why,  my  Dinah!"  he  said.  "How  busy  you 
are!  Let  me  help!" 

Her  heart  throbbed  on  again,  fast  and  hard.  But  still 
for  a  few  seconds  she  could  not  speak.  She  stooped  with  a 
soft  endearing  sound  and  laid  her  face  upon  the  hands  that 
had  clasped  her  own. 

He  suffered  her  for  a  moment  or  two  in  silence;  she 
thought  his  hands  trembled  slightly.  Then:  "Let's  get 
finished,  little  wife ! "  he  said  gently.  "  Isn't  the  day's  work 
nearly  over?  Can't  we  take  off  our  sandals — and  rest?" 

"I  have  just  done,  "  she  said,  finding  her  voice.  "Biddy 
and  I  have  got  through  such  a  lot.  Oh,  Scott,  "  as  the  light 
fell  upon  his  face,  "how  tired  you  look!" 

"It  has  been  rather  a  tiring  day,"  he  made  answer. 
"I  didn't  think  I  could  get  over  here  to-night;  but  Eustace 
insisted." 

"How  good  of  him!"  she  said,  with  quick  gratitude. 

"Yes,  he  is  good,  "  Scott's  voice  was  tender.  "I  couldn't 
sleep  last  night,  and  he  came  into  my  room,  and  we  had 
a  long  talk.  He  is  one  of  the  best,  Dinah ;  one  of  the  best. 
I'm  afraid  you've  made — rather  a  poor  exchange." 

Something  in  his  tone  banished  the  last  of  Dinah's  shy- 
ness. She  gave  him  her  basket  of  china  and  prepared 
to  descend.  He  stretched  up  a  courteous  hand  to  help  her, 
but  she  would  have  none  of  it.  "You  are  never  to  say  that 
— or  anything  like  it — again,"  she  said  severely.  "If — if 
you  weren't  so  dreadfully  tired,  I  believe  I'd  be  really  angry. 
As  it  is — "  she  reached  the  ground  and  stood  there  before 
him,  a  small,  purposeful  figure  clad  in  the  great  apron  that 
wrapped  about  her  like  a  garment. 

"As  it  is —  '  he  suggested  meekly,  setting  the  basket 
on  a  chair  and  turning  back  to  face  her. 


504  Greatheart 

Two  quivering  hands  came  out  to  him  in  the  gloaming, 
and  fastened  resolutely  on  his  coat.  "Oh,  Greatheart," 
whispered  a  tremulous  voice,  "I  love  you  so  much — so 
much — I  want — to  kiss  you!" 

"My  darling,"  answered  Greatheart  softly,  "you  can't 
want  it — more  than  I  do.  " 

His  arms  closed  about  her;  he  drew  her  to  his  breast. 

"Arrah  thin,  what  would  I  cry  for  at  all?"  said  Biddy, 
as  she  lay  down  that  night.  "I've  got  herself  and  Master 
Scott  to  care  for,  and  maybe — some  day — the  Almighty 
will  remember  old  Biddy  for  good,  and  give  another  little 
one  into  her  care. " 

"And  you  left  them  quite  happy?"  smiled  Rose  to  her 
lover  two  days  later.  "It's  a  very  suitable  arrangement, 
isn't  it?  I  always  used  to  think  that  Dinah  and  your 
brother  should  make  a  match. " 

"Oh,  quite  suitable,"  agreed  Eustace  lazily,  an  odd 
blend  of  irony  and  satisfaction  in  his  tone.  "They  will  be 
happy  enough.  Stumpy,  you  know,  is  just  the  sort  of 
chivalrous  ass  that  a  child  like  Dinah  can  appreciate. 
They'll  probably  live  in  the  seventh  heaven,  and  fancy 
that  no  one  else  has  ever  been  within  a  million  miles  of  it. " 

"Poor  little  Dinah!"  murmured  Rose.  "She  will  never 
know  what  she  has  missed. " 

And,  "Just  as  well  perhaps,"  said  Sir  Eustace,  with  his 
faintly  cynical  smile. 


THE    END 


Ji:  Selection  from  the 
Catalogue  of 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


Complete  Catalogues  sent 
on  application 


The 
Hundredth    Chance 


Author  of  "The  Way  of  an   Eagle,"  "The  Knave  of 

Diamonds,"  "The  Rocks  of  Valpre,"  "The  Keeper 

of  the  Door,"  "  Bars  of  Iron,"  etc. 

72°.     Color  Frontispiece  by  Edna  Crompton 
Price,  $150  net.     By  mail,  $1.60 

The  hero  is  a  man  of  masterful  force,  of 
hard  and  rough  exterior,  who  can  remake  a 
human  being  with  the  assurance  of  success 
with  which  he  breaks  a  horse.  Toward  the 
heroine  he  is  all  love,  patience,  solicitude,  but 
she  sees  in  him  only  the  brute  and  the  master. 
To  break  down  her  hostility,  and  defeat  un- 
scrupulous craft  which  draws  her  relendessly 
to  the  verge  of  disaster,  the  hero  can  rely  only 
on  the  weight  of  his  personality  and  innate 
tenderness.  It  is  the  Hundredth  Chance ;  on 
it  he  stakes  all. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


BARS  OF  IRON 

BY  E.  M.  DELL 

AUTHOR  OP 

"THE  WAY  OF  AN  EAGLE,"  "THE  ROCKS  OP  VALPR«,W 
"THE  KEEPER  OF  THE  DOOR,"  etc. 

12°.    COLOR  FRONTISPIECE,    560  PAGES,    $130  NET 
BY  MAIL,  S1.60 

The  story  of  a  man  who,  goaded  into  a 
fight,  yields  to  the  devil  that  masters  him  and 
hurls  his  opponent  to  death.  Years  later, 
unknowing  of  her  identity  and  equally  un- 
known, he  falls  in  love  with  the  widow  of 
the  man  he  has  killed  and  kindles  in  her  a 
friendship  that  has  in  it  the  promise  of  a 
stronger  feeling.  At  that  stage,  he  learns 
by  chance  the  awful  part  that  he  had  played 
in  her  life,  and  the  story  is  the  story  of  his 
conduct  under  the  trying  conditions  of  this 
discovery,  of  the  resolution  he  formed,  the 
promise  he  made,  and  the  way  his  actions, 
dictated  by  fear  and  affection,  influenced  the 
woman  he  loved. 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  LONDON 


The 
Keeper  of  the  Door 

By  Ethel  M.  Dell 

Author  of  "  The  Way  of  an  Eagle,"  "  The  Rocks  of  Valprg," 
"  The  Knave  of  Diamonds,"  etc. 

12°.     $1.50  net.     By  mail,  $1.65 

The  Keeper  of  the  Door,  a  physician  whose 
duty  it  is  to  guard  the  portal  through  which 
the  world-sick  soul  seeks  escape.  He  must 
fight  the  enemy  Death,  even  when  the  latter 
comes  in  friendly  guise.  On  an  impulse  more 
generous  than  wise  the  heroine  puts  into 
practice  the  other  view,  that  in  an  extreme 
case  of  hopeless  suffering  the  extra  drop  in 
the  spoon  that  converts  a  harmless  sedative 
into  a  death-dealing  potion,  is  the  only  fair 
way.  The  story  revolves  around  this  act, 
its  effect  on  the  heroine,  the  physician  whom 
she  loves,  and  one  who  seeks  revenge.  It 
shows  the  author's  remarkable  story-telling 
genius  at  its  best. 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


By  Ethel  M.  Dell 


The  Way  of  an  Eagle 

With  Frontispiece  in  Color.     $1.50  net 
By  mail,  $1.65 

"In  these  days  of  overmuch  involved  plot  and  diction 
in  the  writing  of  novels,  a  book  like  this  brings  a  sense 
of  refreshment,  as  much  by  the  virility  and  directness  of 
its  style  as  by  the  interest  of  the  story  it  tells.  .  .  .  The 
human  interest  of  the  book  is  absorbing.  The  descrip- 
tions of  life  in  India  and  England  are  delightful.  .  .  . 
But  it  is  the  intense  humanity  of  the  story — above  all, 
that  of  its  dominating  character,  Nick  Ratcliffe,  that  will 
win  for  it  a  swift  appreciation." — Boston  Transcript, 

The  Knave  of 
Diamonds 

Frontispiece  in  Color.    $1.50  net.    By  mail,  $1.65 

"  One  of  the  most  satisfactory  love  stories  we  have 
read  in  a  long  while.  Everybody  will  like  it,  from  the 
dyspeptic  and  elderly  reader  to  the  young  person  who 
swallows  'em  whole.  The  characters  are  alive  and 
interesting.  .  .  .  The  author  seems  to  be  a  natural 
story-teller.  Her  book  will  undoubtedly  have  a  great 
success." — N,  Y,  Globe, 

"I  should  not  be  surprised  if  it  became  a  second 
'  Rosary '  in  popularity." — Manchester  Courier, 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New  York  London 


University  of  California  Library 
Los  Angeles 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


MOI^RENEWABi 


JUL  1 


42000 


DUE  2  WKS  FROfv  DATE  RECEIVED 


REC'DYRL 


